Hattie Black and the Lost Tome or: The Great Ley Line Adventure
by Rabenschnabel
Summary: Headmaster Riddle's Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is arguably the best magic school in all of Europe. Unbeknownst to many, the shadow he casts is as black as tar and vast enough to hide machinations and schemes that run deep into the heart of British magical society. When he takes the young Heiress Black, née Potter, under his wing, a dangerous dance begins.
1. Chapter 1

This story was born of the question what Hogwarts would be like if it was run by someone at all competent. Obviously, this couldn't happen under Dumbledore so here's the main point of divergence: Dumbledore and Grindelwald killed each other back in 1945 during their duel.

Consequently, when Riddle applied for the post of DADA teacher, he was accepted. There was no Wizarding War, no Lord Voldemort and no death eaters. There is a little-known organisation operating much like the muggle freemasons, called 'The Knights of Walpurgis', though.

Not surprisingly, all this had a huge effect on Magical Britain and that's what this story is all about.

Please, enjoy!

-o-

**Hattie Black and the Lost Tome**

Chapter 1 - Becoming

There is much to be said about the shining eyes of children at Christmas or their birthdays, but if one wants to see prepubescent rapture in its purest form, one needs only watch a ten-year-old magical child cling to a big envelope of heavy parchment close to their eleventh birthday.

"It's here," Hattie Black's high voice whispered reverently.

All around Britain, it is this day, more than any other, that has children forget their breakfasts in lieu of staring bright-eyed at the heavy red seal bearing the Hogwarts crest.

The front of this particular letter read in proud, green letters:

_Ms. Harriet Jasmine Black née Potter_

_The Heir Suite with all the Bookshelves and Crafting Paraphernalia _

_12, Grimmauld Place_

_London_

_England_

"Go on, then," her father urged, proud smile threatening to split his face in two. "Open it!"

Hattie's fingers shook as she carefully loosened the seal from the paper and set it aside to be put in a memento box later on. When she took out the big wad of fine, high-quality parchment and smoothed it out on the table top, her rapt expression slowly changed into one of glee as she read the letter.

-o-

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Headmaster: Thomas Marvolo Riddle (Order of Merlin, First Class) _

_Dear Harriet Jasmine Black née Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Should you be in need of assistance from the Hogwarts Fund for Underprivileged Witches and Wizards, please fill out the enclosed form. _

_Yours sincerely,_

_Bartemius Crouch Jr, Deputy Headmaster_

_-o-_

"I'm accepted," Hattie whispered, looking up at Sirius in awe.

"What, you seriously thought this might be a rejection letter?" Sirius' voice was strong and teasing as always, but there was a traitorous, wet sheen pooling at the edges of his pale eyes. Also, his smile looked a little wobbly. "You've been doing accidental magic since you were two years old!"

"Still," Hattie argued, playing absent-mindedly with a strand of her long, black hair still unkempt from sleeping, "it's something else entirely to have this in my hand. I can frame it, right? Or is that silly?"

"Tell you what, pup, I've still got mine stashed away somewhere around here under a stasis charm," Sirius admitted and Hattie's smile was one of relief. "Go on then, read the rest."

Hattie nodded, eagerly flipping through to the second and third page.

-o-

_UNIFORM_

_First-year students will require:_

_1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)_

_2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_

_3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragonhide or similar)_

_4\. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)_

_Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags._

_COURSE BOOKS_

_All students should have a copy of each of the following:_

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk_

_A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

_Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch_

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore_

_Dark Arts and their Practical Application by Burghardt Bannister_

_Rites and Customs: An Introduction by Leyla Smith_

_All other required reading will be provided by the school. _

_OTHER EQUIPMENT_

_1 wand_

_1 telescope_

_Parchment, quills and ink_

_Replacements can be bought during Hogsmeade weekends, at the concession stand every Wednesday and Sunday, or via owl order. _

_Students may also bring their pet or familiar. _

_Please find enclosed a copy of the school rules and kindly ask your parent or guardian to unshrink it for you._

_-o-_

Hattie found the small booklet, shrunk enough to be illegible, and held it up for Sirius with a smile.

"It's the school rules," she explained as he dutifully unshrunk it with a tap of his wand.

"We didn't have a copy of those with our letter under dear old Minnie," Sirius admitted with a grin. "Might have kept us out of trouble, who knows."

Hattie snorted while leafing through the booklet.

"No, it wouldn't have."

"No," Sirius agreed with a wistful grin. "Guess it wouldn't have."

Putting the booklet away for later, Hattie read the next page.

-o-

_Additional reading for first years:_

_Please note that these texts are not strictly required and are provided in the school library in adequate capacity. _

_Hogwarts: A History by Bathilda Bagshot_

_An Introduction to Wizarding Culture by Charity Burbage_

_(Especially recommended for muggleborn or -raised students)_

_-o-_

Hattie withstood the urge to tightly clasp the letter to her chest. She was going to learn all of the magic there was, all of it, and she was going to be wickedly good at it.

The last two pages of the letter were the form needed to request assistance from the Hogwarts fund and, mirroring this, an application for patronage of the Hogwarts fund.

She looked at Sirius with a solemn expression.

"We _need_ to become patrons of the Hogwarts fund."

"No need at all, my dear," Sirius grinned. "House Black has been a patron since its implementation following Headmaster Riddle's inauguration."

"Oh," Hattie said, scrunching her face up in thought. "You've never told me about this."

"Grandfather Arcturus joined, I've just kept it running. You see, basically all the old Houses are patrons, and many more besides," Sirius explained. "Many of them don't even particularly like poor families, especially not the muggleborn or -raised this benefits the most, but it's a society thing."

"A society thing?" Hattie asked, legs swinging where she was sitting on the kitchen chair.

"Yeah, basically... one of the Houses started it, the McKinnons, actually, and Hubert and Marlene were very, very diligent about talking about it as loud and to as many people as possible." Sirius was smiling about the memory, a fond little tug at the corner of his mouth. "Your cousin's father, Lucius, has never been one to be bested in anything fiscal, so he signed up, too and donated a good portion of money to the school as well."

"That was very clever of them," Hattie laughed. "Prick them where it hurts - pride!"

"Exactly," Sirius nodded. "No one who was anyone was gonna be beaten at this game so the school saw an unprecedented influx of donations, both pecuniary and material in nature. You don't want to know what kind of brooms we had to use for flying lessons back when I was a student."

"I'm glad that every student can have everything they need, though. I think it would be very embarrassing to stick out for not having all the books or clothes or what have you."

Sirius gave a dry huff at that, shaking his head with fondness in his eyes.

"You are a much better person than I was at your age, Harriet. I'm proud to be your father."

Hattie ducked her head when a blush threatened to set her face on fire and ran around the small table to bury her face in Sirius' chest.

Even though she'd been living with him since she was three years old after her parents had died due to a particularly vicious bout of dragon pox, he had only blood-adopted her last year at Samhain. The memory of that night, with the fires and the chanting and all the ambient magic in the air still filled her with awe and wonder and she knew that one day, it was going to fuel her Patronus charm

"Your parents would be very proud of you today, Hattie. Like every day, really." He gently took hold of her shoulders and pushed her back to look into her eyes. "You have become a fine young witch, and I know that you will have the best of times at Hogwarts."

Hattie tried, she really did, but there was no stopping the flood of tears that spilled from her already stinging eyes and she buried back into his chest and the soft fabric of his shirt.

Sirius just held her, stroking her back and giving the top of her head a big kiss.

"Now, how about you take five to calm yourself down, maybe have another cuppa, and then get yourself ready so we can go to Diagon?"

Those words sounded as if the heavens themselves had opened up to serenade her and the tears almost but not quite hovered where they were falling down.

"Today!?" she screeched with all the grace and propriety of a Hippogriff at feeding time.

When Sirius nodded, Hattie stood very, very still for about seven and a half seconds before breaking into a gallop and running from the room in that loose-legged sprint that little girls did.

She tore up the stairs, almost bowling over poor Uncle Remus with a shout of "Sorry, excuse me, Hogwarts student coming through!"

Upon arriving in her little suite (just a large bedroom with an ensuite bathroom, really) she brushed her teeth with one hand and her hair with the other which really didn't work as well as it ought to, both of them being brushing and all.

Finally clean and with that sentient Potter hair tamed in one long plait down her back, Hattie ran into her pretty walk-in closet and tried not to think too hard about what she was going to wear lest she be in there for too long.

She decided to keep it simple and put on her favourite white dress that modestly covered her legs to below her knees and over that an open emerald green overrobe that she had been told complemented her eyes nicely.

Her favourite pair of dainty dragonhide boots and a lovely little necklace that had been a gift from Uncle Regulus later and she was good to go.

-0-

Sirius was already waiting for her by the floo, looking almost as giddy as she felt. She had, of course, been to Diagon Alley countless times before but shopping for one's first year at Hogwarts was something special, Sirius had told her, so they had never gotten anything specifically for Hogwarts before.

"Ready, pup?"

Bubbling like a cauldron, all Hattie could do was nod. She had been ready for this for ages!

Since it was a wednesday, the 24th of July, to be exact, the Alley proved to be not quite as full as it might have been on a weekend this close to the start of a new Hogwarts year. Still, there was a steady stream of people flowing from one shop to the next, the odd bright-eyed first year like herself among them.

"Where first?" Hattie asked Sirius, not sure she could trust her own judgment of trying to go to all of the shops at once.

"Hmm," Sirius said, thinking about it. "How about we get your robes first? They need some time to make the necessary alterations, especially when it's this busy."

With that being a plan as good as any, Hattie nodded and grabbed Sirius' hand to drag him over to Madam Malkin's.

"It's a shame Uncle Remus can't come with," Hattie complained. "Full moon's on Friday, right?"

"Yes on both counts," Sirius agreed. "Let's thank the stars we're filthy rich enough to afford his potion and that, thanks to never wanting to ever come close to hurting you, he's agreed to let me buy it for him."

Hattie nodded sagely, familiar with Remus' reluctance to accept handouts even from those closest to him.

In Madam Malkin's shop, Hattie was quickly ushered onto one of two fitting tables in the women's section of the store. Being the heir of not one, but two reputable houses, she was already well-known because Sirius insisted she should always look her part when out in public and she agreed. Politics were fickle, and she didn't want him in a delicate position because his daughter publicly embarrassed him with improper clothes.

There was another young girl being fitted together with her, a bushy-haired brunette wearing jeans and a T-shirt in a pretty rosy colour with chemistry formulas in white letters.

"Hello, I'm Hattie," she introduced herself with a smile. "Do you like chemistry a lot?"

It was like the universe had spontaneously given birth to a new sun when the girl turned over to look at her with the biggest grin she had ever seen.

"You know about chemistry?," she asked breathlessly.

Hattie nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, of course! I like Alchemy the best. Well, also Runes, of course, but you don't need chemistry for that. You do need chemistry for Alchemy, though, so I had one of my uncles teach me."

Somehow, the girl's grin became even wider and thus, Hattie became witness to what must have been the longest monologue without a single breath taken in the history of wizardkind.

"My name's Hermione Granger, I'm a muggleborn and we were ever so surprised when my Hogwarts letter came last September but of course we accepted it then and there because really, it did explain a lot, you know, what with the books always coming when I called them and the cats always being so nice and the pink mashed potatoes and everything! I am a woman of science though and I feared I would never see a math formula or Newton's laws ever again, but did you know that they form the basis of many magic disciplines as well, yes, of course you do, you like alchemy and runes, and you probably like reading too, you look like a reader, and anyway, I was thinking about getting a cat, you know, but I also need more books and I only have so much money to spare, but then the library is supposed to be huge and I'm so excited, because there's gonna be a train and did you know it's still steam-powered? Or maybe just charmed to seem steam-powered. Anyway, I think I'm gonna be in Ravenclaw, what about you?"

Hattie blinked. Stunned in the face of all this new information, she took a moment to comb through it all.

"Wow, uh, I do actually think I could be in Ravenclaw as well, but either house would be fine, of course. You, uh, got your letter last year in September already?"

"My birthday is September 19th, so I'll turn 12 three weeks into term," Hermione explained. "This is my fourth time to Diagon Alley, poor Professor Crouch has been taking me because there's always new books I need since my parents, well, they're dentists, teeth healers, and they're very busy and they're also Muggles, so it would be really inconvenient for them."

There was a shadow over Hermione's face with that admission and Hattie vowed not to pry too deep into that.

"Anyway, Professor Crouch has been nothing but kind to me, he's one of the Heads of Ravenclaw House, you know, and he says that if there has ever been a witch that belongs into Ravenclaw, it would be me."

Hattie looked over to the entrance of the store where Sirius was talking to a man around his age who had strawberry-blonde hair, a smattering of freckles and an easy-going smile on his face.

"That's Professor Crouch?," she asked, nodding in their direction. All the while, the charmed measuring tape was hard at work.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, do you think your father knows him? They look roughly the same age, so maybe they went to Hogwarts together?"

"I've never seen him before, so I guess they're not close friends or anything, but they might be acquaintances," Hattie pondered. "He's Deputy Headmaster, right? It said so in the letter."

Just then, the tape was done and the girls jumped down, making their way over to the two men in silent agreement.

"Ah, Hattie, this is one of your new professors, Professor Crouch. We actually went to Hogwarts together, though he was, what... two years behind me?"

"Three, I think?," Crouch said slowly, thinking back what must have been _two whole decades_! "But where are my manners- it's an honour to make your acquaintance, Heiress Black-Potter."

Training kicking in seamlessly, Hattie made a curtsy and extended her right hand with the heir rings on it which Crouch gently took, kissing the knuckles.

"The honour is all mine, Professor Crouch," Hattie smiled. "I can't wait for September 1st!"

Hermione nodded enthusiastically and the girls shared a big grin.

"This is my father, Sirius Black. Sirius, this is my new friend, Hermione Granger. She likes books and science!"

Sirius whistled through his teeth and kissed Hermione's hand while the blushing girl rushed to do her best attempt at a curtsy.

"You couldn't have made a better first impression on my daughter dearest if you'd tried, Miss Granger," Sirius smirked. "Barty, how many things do you and your charge need, yet?"

"The first three times we came here, all we got was books," he explained with an exasperated glance at Hermione's beaming face. "Robes are a check, so we still need… everything else, basically."

Sirius looked to Hattie and she found herself nodding vigorously.

"How about we go together, then? Hattie can tell Hermione all about Hogwarts and what young witches get up to, and you and me can catch up a little."

With a glance at Hermione and her excited expression, Crouch immediately grinned and nodded.

"Yes, of course, that would be most agreeable."

-o-

The four decided to get writing supplies at Scribbulus' next. Hermione had already gotten a roll of parchment, a quill and an ink bottle with her letter for practicing purposes like all muggleborn students did, she explained to Hattie. Alas, that would of course not be enough for the school year.

So they both got copious amounts of parchment, quills, ink pots, a knife each for sharpening their quills and notebooks. Hattie found herself thoroughly enjoying the girl's company, talking with her about the differences between writing equipment in their respective worlds and arguing about pros and cons all while helping each other choose the prettiest notebook covers.

With promises of there being enough stock in the concession stand at Hogwarts even for them, Crouch and Sirius herded them out of the shop and into Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment for their trunks and satchels.

Hermione stuck with a standard edition Hogwarts school trunk, but Sirius was already talking shop with the owner about what charms and expansions he wanted for Hattie's trunk.

"There's really no need for this, father," Hattie whispered, flustered, when the owner stepped through a door to retrieve one of the special trunks Sirius was interested in. "A normal trunk will suffice."

Not a man to be thwarted easily, Sirius snorted.

"You'll thank me for this, believe me," he cautioned, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Don't feel bad for your new friend, she's not the type to get jealous easily."

In fact, Hermione was busy browsing through the satchels while Crouch was looking at an assortment of pocket watches.

When the owner returned, he had a gorgeous, cinnober red trunk bound in dragonhide with him.

"Top of the line, this," he explained. "Theft-proof, waterproof, spellproof, expanded to three compartments, with a featherlight charm and other various bits and bobs to make life easier for the discerning customer."

Sirius nodded eagerly and had him show Hattie how to set a password that only registered in her voice and explain about how to access the compartments.

Hattie was ecstatic about having enough space for her supplies for Runes and crafting and her books, but she couldn't help but feel bad about how Hermione, who loved books maybe even more than she did, would have to leave some of them at home.

Struck by inspiration, she walked up to the young witch while Sirius and the owner were haggling about the price of her trunk.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?," the girl asked back, comparing sizes between two satchels.

"Uhm, I know we haven't known each other for very long, but I was wondering whether you'd accept an early birthday present from me?"

Hermione stilled and looked at her with big, brown eyes.

"You want to give me a present?"

"Well, it's what friends do, right?"

Hermione's lower lip began to tremble dangerously, and for a terrifying moment, Hattie thought she'd done a terrible thing, but then Hermione swallowed audibly and beamed at her.

"I would love that, actually," she said in a small voice. "There just... haven't been all that many presents from, well, friends. Or any, really, if I'm being honest."

Hattie nodded, deciding to once again not pry. Instead, she sported a huge grin and leaned in conspiratorially.

"How would you feel about a mokeskin bag?"

"Ooh, is that the wizard version of moleskin?"

"Uh, no. At least... I don't think so?," Hattie floundered. "A moke is a magical lizard that can shrink at will and when you line a bag with its skin, it's a lot bigger on the inside."

"Like the T.A.R.D.I.S.," Hermione breathed in awe. "We definitely don't have anything like this in the muggle world... I would love one, Hattie, thank you so much!"

"You're welcome! That way, you can bring your books with you."

Hermione's eyes were a little wet as the two girls made their way to the mokeskin bags and sorted through them.

While they were browsing, Crouch came up to them with a chagrined expression, and leaned in close to Hermione.

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Granger," he whispered, "but I'm afraid your stipend and your parents' contribution are not going to be quite enough for a bag of that caliber."

Hermione's eyes widened and she looked at the discreetly hidden price tags, and then at Hattie. She looked scandalised.

"Hattie, these bags cost 50 galleons!"

Crouch looked at Hattie with his blue eyes, eyebrow raised, and she fidgeted nervously.

"It's alright, Professor Crouch, I wanted to give Hermione a birthday gift because we're going to be in the same house and the same dorm for the next seven years and, well, I really like her."

Crouch regarded her thoughtfully.

"Another little raven, then?" He nodded, looking extraordinarily pleased. "Who am I to stand in the path of wisdom and learning? Have at it!"

"Hattie, you can't, these are way too expensive!"

Hattie looked from Crouch to Hermione, shrugging sheepishly.

"I'm, uh, I mean, I don't want to gloat or anything, but I have more money than I know what to do with and I would really like to make you happy with this present, Hermione."

Visibly touched, Hermione hugged Hattie who tightly hugged her back and the two went back to browsing for the prettiest colours.

In the end, Hermione got a purple bag with beaded strings on the flap and Hattie decided for a sensible silvery-grey one with blue thread.

Purchases shrunk and stored except for their new bags, they continued their journey and got a telescope each, a pointy hat and finally, finally!, made their way to Ollivander's.

"Hattie, Hermione, I have to warn you. Mr. Ollivander, while undoubtedly brilliant, is a little on the... curious side. Just, just take it in stride, alright?"

The girls looked at Sirius with twin expressions of doubtfulness but Crouch's enthusiastic nodding had them both warily looking at each other.

"It's a rite of passage, so to speak, and it can take quite a while to find your wand," Crouch explained. "I was in there for half an hour, trying out god knows how many wands, before finally, this one chose me."

With that, a wand sprung forth from inside his left sleeve. He probably had a holster, like Sirius.

"12 1/2 inches, yew, unicorn hair. I was so relieved."

Sirius snorted.

"Seems like everyone I talk to has a story like that. I took over twenty minutes, myself, so don't fret if it takes longer, girls." He adopted a stern face. "And do get yourselves a decent holster. I will not have a daughter of the House of Black running around with a wand in her purse or a pocket. Or her friends, for that matter, so do get your friend a holster, my dear. We don't want her accidentally hexing her own buttock off."

Hermione was about to protest but Sirius' last sentence had her stare horrified and scandalised in equal measure.

"That can happen?," she asked in a small voice.

"Happens about once every school year," Crouch admitted. "Very sensible of you, Lord Black."

Sirius giggled in amusement and pushed the girls towards the dingy little entrance.

"We'll wait for you at Fortescue's, alright? There's nothing better than chocolate ice cream after getting your wand!"

The girls nodded obediently and watched Sirius and Crouch go towards the ice cream parlour with mixed emotions. Hattie dubiously looked at Hermione who stared back just as nervous.

"Ready?," Hattie asked with a voice that was slightly more unsteady than she had hoped for.

Hermione merely nodded again, visibly steeled herself and walked into the shop. Hattied followed before the door could close and the two found themselves inside a shop that somehow felt like it should be full of cobwebs and dust but was, instead, immaculately clean; just terribly cluttered.

The ringing of the bell above the door had alerted an elderly man with wispy white hair to their presence. He appeared from somewhere between the ceiling-high shelves stacked to the brim with long thin boxes.

"Ah, yes, new students, I see. Very, very good. You must be Miss Potter, then, I presume? You have your mother's eyes, you do indeed. And someone who's entirely new to this world with you? A blank slate, so to say? Very exciting, always. Yes."

There was a sharp pang of... something in Hattie's chest and Hermione looked at her as if she had a thousand questions but knew better than to ask them.

"It's Miss Black now," Hattie said in a steady, flat voice because she was not going to cry right now, thank you very much. "My Lord Father blood-adopted me last Samhain."

Ollivander's watery blue eyes were round behind his spectacles and he looked at Hattie with a decidedly owlish expression.

"My, how curious. It's so rare that these things happen nowadays, Miss Black. I apologize most profoundly."

"It's alright, you didn't know," Hattie said quickly. "Here, Hermione, why don't you go first? I'll go sit on that chair over there."

Hermione nodded and what followed was hardly five minutes of silly wand waving before the girl was the proud owner of a new wand of her very own, 10 3/4 inches, vine wood and dragon heartstring.

"New blood, yes, but _powerful_! All the wands were so eager to please, did you feel it? They all wanted you, child, but there are few that are good for you, too. I expect to hear about your endeavours in the future."

Hermione looked at him in awe, clutching her wand to her chest.

"I'm... powerful? But, I'm just a muggleborn witch, aren't I?

"One has naught to do with the other, child," Ollivander said. "There are purebloods that are nigh squibs, and there are muggleborn who excel in all they endeavour."

With that, he looked at Hattie.

"Like your birth mother."

Hattie nodded, slowly getting up and taking Hermione's place.

"I have to warn you, Harriet Jasmine Black-Potter, with your families' history we might be here quite a while. Magic remembers, you see, and the older the name, the longer the choosing."

"I understand."

-o-

Roughly thirty minutes later, Hattie was beginning to fret. Sure, Crouch had said it had taken him half an hour, too, but with Hermione, almost all of the wands had produced sparks and the last one had produced a veritable firework of sparks that had Hermione glow with magic and Hattie and Mr. Ollivander clap as witch and wand bonded.

With Hattie, she was glad whenever a wand didn't let something explode once it touched her hand.

"Does that mean I'm almost a squib?," she asked with tears beginning to form in her eyes when the hundredth or so wand let Ollivander's lamp explode.

Ollivander stilled where he stood before he repaired the lamp with a flick of his own wand and a mumbled incantation.

"Dear girl," he intoned sombrely, "dear, poor girl, heavens no! When a wizard or witch fails to produce reactions, then we would question his potential, but this? _This_? This is why I love my profession. Two powerful, young witches. One a blank slate and one steeped in history so deep you can cut the tension with a knife!"

Hattie exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding at that and her heartbeat slowed a little.

"The wands are fighting for you as much as they were for your friend, but your history has marked you. I wonder- why ever not, yes? There is one wand no one has ever had any reaction to at all, neither good nor bad, which is most peculiar, really, never had that before."

Mumbling to himself, Ollivander vanished between the stacks and Hattie chanced a glance back at Hermione who gave her a thumbs-up. Hattie returned the gesture with a grateful smile and Ollivander returned with a sleek, black box.

"11 inches, holly, with a phoenix feather core. A temperamental little beast of a wand, likes nobody. Who knows, maybe it will-"

Ollivander stopped speaking when Hattie rushed forward with a rapt expression, plucking the wand from the box where it called to her. As her fingers closed around the hilt, time stood still and she felt a warmth she had never experienced before. There was a kind of ringing in her ears and when she went to flick the wand, time started again and everything was white-hot light.

Next thing she knew, every window in the shop exploded outwards with a terrible clangour and a magical wind rushed through the shop, making her clothes dance.

Hattie was speechless, as were Ollivander and Hermione and for several long, long moments, they just stood there.

"Hattie! _Hattie_!"

Sirius' frightened voice cut through her stupor and she turned slowly when he strode through the destroyed door, grabbing her by the shoulders.

"Are you alright?," he asked worriedly, his face close to hers.

She nodded mutely and clung to her new wand, not quite sure what to say. Passersby were already looking in, wondering if they needed help, but Crouch was waving them onwards, already repairing the damage.

"My, Miss Black, I'm proud to announce that this is one of the very, very few times this has happened to a Hogwarts student getting their first wand. You'll be pleased to know that the last time this happened, it was your esteemed future headmaster himself who was ever so sorry for destroying my store."

Ollivander fixed her with his strange, watery eyes and grinned a small, private smile.

"How fitting, then, that the feather in your new wand should be the only one his phoenix has ever given for the purpose of wand-making."

Hattie heard a sharp intake of breath from what must have been Crouch and Sirius pulled her to his side, a supportive arm slung over her shoulder.

"I'm proud of you, my dear," he grinned. "I've been telling you, you'll be a powerful, brilliant witch, just like your dear mother was."

Hattie gave him a wobbly smile, clutching her new wand to her chest and exchanging an awed expression with Hermione, who was still clutching her wand just like she was.

-o-

Finally back in the sunshine of the Alley, the girls were thankful for their chocolate sundaes and digging in with abandon.

"I'm sorry, girls," Sirius said. "When we said it was gonna be quite the experience, we didn't know just how harrowing it was going to be. Had we known, we would have stayed with you, of course."

"It's fine, father," Hattie said with a smile. "You didn't know, and it all worked out in the end."

Crouch leaned forward, then, and looked at Hattie with an inscrutable expression.

"Miss Black, with permission of you and your father, I would tell Headmaster Riddle about the new whereabouts of his familiar's feather. Dear old Ignatius will be thrilled to have his gift put to use, I should think."

After a quick look at Sirius, Hattie nodded her consent around a mouthful of ice cream.

"I would be honoured!," she said with a bashful smile after swallowing.

The headmaster's own phoenix, and then his only feather!

"Excuse me, I was wondering," Hermione asked slowly. "Mister Ollivander, he seemed to know an awful lot about us; he even knew I was muggleborn even though I have never seen him before in my life. Can wizards read minds..?"

Sirius and Crouch looked contemplative at that.

"I don't think Mr. Ollivander is a legilimens, no." Crouch shook his head. "At least, I don't think he's using it on children. It's against the law to use legilimency without consent. He might be a latent seer, though, who knows."

"Wizards can actually read thoughts, then!" Hermione looked scandalised. "How can you stop them?"

"It's called Occlumency," Sirius explained. "There are different stages of mastery of this discipline, and it protects your mind from intrusions of all kind. One of the other advantages, for example, is that it can give you an eidetic memory when you're far enough along."

"Ooh, I already have that! Would that make Occlumency easier?"

The men looked at Hermione incredulously.

"Definitely a Ravenclaw," Crouch said with a smug grin. "You know what, I'll buy you a book at Flourish & Blott's about Occlumency as an early birthday present from your future Head of House."

-o-

Thus calmed down, the four made their way to Eeylops Owl Emporium because Sirius wanted to gift Hattie with an owl so she could write home often, wink wink.

It didn't take her long at all to fall utterly and irrevocably in love with a snowy owl who was sleeping far back in the store. She was supposed to be a little cranky, but a sweetie at heart and that sold Hattie immediately, likening her new pet to Sirius who declared himself not amused despite his big grin.

Hermione then led the way to the Magical Menagerie to acquire a cat because she liked them, and, in her words, it was the proper thing to do for a witch, really, having a feline familiar.

While her new friend was busy fawning over cats and kneazles, Hattie used the opportunity to browse the surprisingly spacious store. There was an adorable litter of crups, some toads, lots and lots of cats, lizards (even a couple mokes!), spiders, rats and many more besides.

Hattie looked up from petting the crups when she heard a voice from further in the back of the store, round a corner. Strange really, since she could have sworn they were the only customers in the store.

Following the unfamiliar, lisping voice complaining about the cold, Hattie found herself standing in front of a terrarium housing what she first excitedly thought to be a baby dragon. Upon closer inspection, however, it turned out to be a snake.

A plague next to the terrarium read

_"Hairy Bush Viper" _

_Atheris hispida_

**Venomous! **

The snake was about a foot long, with a short snout and big, green eyes that peered at her with what she wanted to call a cunning sort of intelligence. Its scales were red and orange, turning into almost purple at their ends like a burning fire and it had a shiny, pale yellow underbelly. But the most startling thing about it were the scales sprouting like little horns from its head, making it look, in fact, like a miniature dragon.

"_You're beautiful_," Hattie whispered, half tempted to get her hand in the terrarium and pet the fiery serpent.

The snake's head surged upward, its gaze boring into her own.

"_You speak_?," it asked in the same voice she had heard earlier.

"_You understood me_?," Hattie asked incredulously. "Are you a magical snake?"

The snake actually seemed to ponder her question.

"_I... could be_," it said. "_With you. For you_."

"_Me? Because I'm a witch_?"

"_Yes, and no. Because you are a witch, but because you are also more. You are a speaker_."

"_You mean I'm_..."

"You're a parselmouth!?"

Hattie spun around and was confronted with Barty Crouch staring at her from the corner leading to the rest of the shop. She was at a loss for words, opening and closing her mouth, but no sound was coming out.

"I'm... sorry, I... I didn't know," she stuttered.

"Sorry?," Crouch asked. "My dear girl, there's nothing to be sorry about! Why, it's a day for celebrations! Never before has there been a female parselmouth in all of recorded history!"

"There hasn't?"

"You're the first!"

"I am?"

"What did the snake say?"

"Oh, it said it could be magical? For me, and with me?"

Crouch looked like Christmas had come early by then.

"It was talking about Parselmagic! Miss Black, that's extraordinary, beyond extraordinary - momentous, historic! I need to tell your father immediately!" He turned to run, then stopped. "Would it be alright if I told him?"

"Oh, thanks for asking. And sure, yeah, why not."

And off he went.

Hattie turned back around to the snake, finding it watching her still. She felt strangely calm with this new revelation. Calmer than before, even.

"_Do you know about Parselmagic_?"

The snake shook its little dragon head.

"_I only know we can be magical when our speaker wills it so_," it explained. "_We always try to be of assistance to speakers_."

Hattie nodded absent-mindedly, staring into the distance. She knew about parselmouths, they were associated with Slytherin's bloodline and very, very rare, but as far as she knew, neither the Blacks, nor the Potters were descended from Slytherin. In fact, there was only one known parselmouth in the British Isles.

Hard to forget, what with the whole Chamber of Secrets business and him getting an Order of Merlin for that: Thomas Marvolo Riddle.

Her future headmaster, whose phoenix had gifted the feather in her wand. No wonder his deputy had been positively thrilled.

"Oh, where are my manners!," she suddenly exclaimed in English before turning to the snake and switching back to Parseltongue. "_Excuse me, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Harriet Jasmine Black. What's your name_?"

"_We don't have names_," the snake hissed. "_Without a speaker, there is no need for them. Though you may name me, if you so wish_."

"_Sure! Are you a girl snake or a boy snake_?"

"_I'm male_," the snake answered, eyes never leaving her form.

"_Mhh, you know, I've been looking up suitable names because I knew I was going to get an owl today, soo... how about Fang? Because of the teeth but also because it's Chinese for_ _beautiful_."

"_Fang it is_."

The snake glowed a little just as Sirius and Crouch came around the corner with Hermione in tow who was carrying a ginger cat.

"Hattie!" Sirius was at her side in an instant, eyes raking over her to make sure she was okay. "What did you do? Why did it glow?"

"I just gave him a name and then he started glowing," she explained. "I didn't do anything else, I promise."

"The snake bonded with her because a name gives them purpose and she hadn't yet bonded to another," Crouch explained, giddy like a schoolgirl. "Ooh, Tom's gonna love this!"

Hattie gasped in shock.

"Oh no, what about my owl! I can't have both a pet and a familiar, the letter said _or_, not _and_!"

"I'm your Head of House and Deputy Headmaster besides, remember?," Crouch reassured her. "I'm sure the Headmaster and I can make exceptions for cases like this. I was here, I know you didn't do it on purpose."

"You seem awfully sure about her being in Ravenclaw. Shouldn't she be in Slytherin with a talent like this?" Sirius put his hands on her shoulders with a grin, a steady presence in the rapids that had become her day.

Crouch looked thoughtful.

"No, I still think she's gonna be a Ravenclaw. But we'll see for sure at the Sorting, of course."

-o-

She took Fang home that day, because of course she did, and even Flourish & Blotts couldn't keep the girls from cooing over their new companions. They were so enraptured, in fact, that the only non-school book they got was the promised Occlumency guide for Hermione and a book about snakes for Hattie.

At the end of the day, Hattie invited Hermione to Grimmauld Place for her birthday the following week and promised to write her lots and lots of letters she would send with her new owl they had collectively decided to call Hedwig.

Before Crouch Apparated Hermione home, he turned to Sirius and Hattie with a solemn expression.

"I thank you for your company today," Crouch said earnestly. "But before we leave, I have a question for the both of you. When I tell the headmaster about the revelations of today, would you be amenable to having a preliminary meeting with him at a destination of your choosing? I can't stress how rare and extraordinary young Miss Black's gift is, and the headmaster will be able to answer any question she may have about Parselmagic, the history of Parseltongue or how to deal with being a parselmouth."

"Oh sure, of course," Sirius said easily. "I must admit, this came right out of the blue. An experienced teacher, a true scholar, even, would be the best thing for her right now, I should think. What about you, Hattie?"

"You're absolutely right, father. I would love to meet him!" Hattie was vibrating in excitement. "He's a great man, I even have his chocolate frog card!"

Crouch snorted at that but nodded nonetheless.

"He'll be glad to know you admire his contribution to society," he teased. "I can't promise anything, of course, but the headmaster I know wouldn't think twice about meeting the young lady who has so many unlikely ties to him. Who knows, maybe your birth mother's side of the family wasn't as unmagical as everyone believed."

With those ominous words of parting ringing in their ears, Sirius and Hattie made their way to the Leaky Cauldron to floo home. If at all possible, Hattie thought she might well be even _more_ excited for Hogwarts now.

-o-

Next time, we will explore Barty's Daddy Issues™ and witness the first meeting of Hattie and Tom Riddle~


	2. Chapter 2

**Your interest has made me very happy. Thanks for that! **

-o-

Quite some miles away from Diagon Alley - northern Scotland, in fact - Barty arrived in Hogwarts after taking Hermione home and making her pinky-swear not to reveal her new friend's connections to the headmaster.

With the Black heir being her first proper friend, the girl was quick to agree and thanked him profusely for the day, the book, his time, the ice cream and she would have probably gone on if he hadn't excused himself, citing school business.

Mulling over this and that and trying to make sense of it all, the journey to the headmaster's office flew by and he found himself in front of the Gargoyle guarding the entrance.

"Morsmordre," he spoke reverently and the gargoyle stepped aside.

In the office proper, he found the headmaster sitting behind his tidy desk, writing on a piece of parchment with an exceptionally beautiful spotted quill.

Striding quickly over and around the desk, Barty dropped to his knees and kissed the hem of the headmaster's robes.

"Master," he murmured, basking in the thrum of power surrounding the other man.

"Come now, Barty, I told you there's no need for that here." Barty looked up, meeting Riddle's bright, brown eyes. His breath caught at the fond expression he saw there.

He fluidly got up from the floor and walked back around the desk to sit in one of the comfortable guest chairs.

"You have something to tell me," Riddle realised, then, setting the quill down and screwing the ink pot closed. "It's important."

Barty nodded, unsure where to start. He looked over his shoulder and met Ignatius' intelligent, reptilian eyes which prompted the phoenix to give a gentle thrill that calmed his racing heart somewhat.

"Ignatius' feather that you, uh, bequeathed upon Ollivander. It found its master today," he recounted. "Levelled the whole store, it did."

Riddle didn't react apart from raising his eyebrow.

"Your little future raven you've been so fond of the past months?," he simply asked.

Barty shook his head, fretting with the lapels of his fine overrobe.

"No, it's another new first-year student– Harriet Black. Born to James Potter and Lily Evans in 1980, blood-adopted last year at Samhain by her godfather, Sirius Black. Lord Black, that is." His expression was wistful, fond even. "Fine young miss, good manners. Smart, too. Think she'd be another one of mine, actually, if there wasn't that other thing."

Even though he had already had all of Riddle's attention, the headmaster sat up even straighter at this.

"What other thing, Barty?" Riddle's handsome face was a mask of calm but Barty knew that hungry glint in his eye.

"There's really no gentler way to say this than to simply get it over with, I guess," Barty mused, pondering the windows behind Riddle's back before snapping his gaze back at him. "She's a parselmouth."

Something exploded behind him.

"Don't _toy_ with me, Barty," Riddle calmly chided, his level voice belying the power suddenly bleeding from his skin. "There are _no_ female parselmouths."

"There are now, Tom!" He argued. "At least the one, and I wouldn't lie to you, I never have!"

Riddle steepled his fingers, resting his chin on them and fixing Barty with an inscrutable expression.

"Show me."

The command was simple, and Barty took the time to organize his mind a little, straighten everything up, so to speak. He pushed the memories from today's shopping trip to the forefront of his mind and hid little bips and bops of his running commentary on life behind simple wooden doors.

Riddle would be able to penetrate those quite easily, of course, but Barty knew that he wouldn't. He'd never given the headmaster cause to doubt his loyalties, and so he knew he had nothing to fear.

When he was done, he nodded with a carefully blank expression.

As it were, the non-verbal intrusion into his mind was gentle as always, like cool fingers stroking his temples after a hot afternoon spent in the sun. He resisted a sigh and watched detachedly as Riddle perused through his memories, mostly glossing over his self-indulgent gossip with Lord Black and focusing instead on the girl.

It didn't take very long, all things considered, but it felt like ages and Barty had started shaking as he always did when there was something foreign in his mind– no matter how welcome.

He must have even sunk to the floor at some point, because from one moment to the next he had gone from pretty, pretty eye contact to suddenly staring up at the high, wooden ceiling. Quite before he'd made sense of it all, there was a strong hand hoisting him effortlessly up by his upper arm and he wobbled a little where he stood.

Riddle was next to him, his long fingers still wrapped around his arm.

"My apologies for hurting you."

The headmaster's face was contrite, and Barty felt a flutter in his stomach.

"I'm not hurt, just the, ha, you know, old liability. I'll work on it."

Riddle gave his arm one last squeeze and stepped back, walking up to the big windows overseeing Hogwarts' extensive grounds with his hands clasped behind his back. Barty joined him there after he had collected himself.

"You did very well, Barty," Riddle praised.

Barty bowed his head, feeling a flush come to his cheeks.

"You do me too much honour, master. I was merely at the right place at the right time."

"Still. You've proven your resourcefulness once again. I promise I'll redouble my efforts to acquire a pensieve of my own so I can stop hurting you needlessly." Riddle gave him another small, fond smile that looked almost foreign on his regal face. "After all, I know that out of all those loyal to me, you alone are the one I can trust without reservation."

Thus praised, it took all of Barty's willpower to not once again fall to his knees at his master's feet.

Instead, he squared his shoulders and stood tall and proud next to the man who was more of a father to him than his own ever was.

"About the girl," Barty began. "I told her and her father that you might request a meeting, show her the ropes a little, you know? I think she's very interested in Parselmagic, and that pretty snake of hers is something you have to see for yourself! In person, I mean. Magnificent creature."

Riddle pondered that for a moment, a tiny crease forming between his eyebrows.

"You know, Barty," Riddle drawled, blessing him with an appreciative nod. "I think that's exactly what I'll do."

-o-

Back in London, Hattie was busy telling Uncle Remus about her day over a cup of tea. The greying man was listening intently and oohed and aahed at the appropriate times. There were dark circles under his eyes and every time he brought the cup up to his mouth, the hand holding it was shaking minutely.

When Hattie had finished fawning over Fang, who was busy exploring the kitchen table, Remus nodded slowly.

"I'm even more sorry about missing the trip now, dear," he sighed. "I'm glad that you were able to make a new friend, though. Hermione is a name most befitting for a young witch. She'll fit right in, I say, and I'll be looking forward to making her acquaintance at your birthday party next week. I should be fine again by then, as well."

She exchanged a pleased smile with Remus, just as Sirius chose that moment to return from freshening up and changing into comfy muggle clothing.

"Hattie," he said, sitting down next to Remus and pouring himself a cup of tea, "we need to talk about something concerning your Parseltongue abilities. I talked about this with Professor Crouch on the way back, and we were in agreement that we should keep this under wraps for now. At least until we've spoken with Riddle about this. So no rushing off to write letters to Draco or Neville or Uncle Regulus, alright?"

"You're probably right, father, " Hattie agreed easily. "I would hate to be too hasty in this. Professor Crouch said that it was a big deal, after all, so we have to be sensible."

Sirius shook his head.

"You are _way_ too sensible for your age, young lady." He patted her head, much to Hattie's protest. "Remus must have rubbed off on you. He always was our voice of reason back then, after all.

Remus snorted into his cup.

"Yeah, because being the voice of reason for both James Henry Potter and Sirius Orion Black was, of course, ever so rewarding."

Over their continued bickering, Hattie fondly remembered long evenings spent in front of the fireplace in Sirius' study, hearing stories about the Marauders' exploits during their school years. From their tales alone, Hattie felt like she already knew Hogwarts inside out, but that didn't mean she would be idle. In fact, she'd vowed to herself that she would find a Hogwarts secret all of her own. One that even the Marauders hadn't sniffed out!

-o-

Late that night, when she was lying on her bed in her silk nightshirt, Hattie's head felt so full of thoughts, she thought it might crack open like a big old egg. Not quite knowing what to do with herself, she sat up in bed and stared out of her open window down into the neat and tidy garden. Her new owl Hedwig had gone hunting and exploring the new neighbourhood earlier and Hattie felt better knowing that she could come back whenever she wanted.

Down on the patio, Sirius and Remus were sharing a bottle of firewhiskey and their indistinct chatter floated up to comfort the tired girl. She could make out Sirius' barking laughter and Remus' lighter, more melodious one. With her mischievous grin hidden by the night sky, Hattie once again wondered how long it would take them to confront their feelings for each other. Her decision stood that if they hadn't gotten their bloody act together in the year she was gone, she was going to play the active role of matchmaker over the next summer.

With that soothing scenario playing in her head, Hattie fell asleep with a smile on her face.

-o-

The next morning, she was digging into a bowl of porridge while Sirius was reading the Daily Prophet and Remus was staring unseeingly into his cup of tea, when there was a bright light outside shining out like a beacon before vanishing just as quickly.

Hattie and Sirius exchanged a glance and she stayed put with the spoon halfway to her mouth while he crept closer to the window.

"Well bugger me sideways," Sirius swore and opened the window.

"Language," reprimanded Hattie and Remus in unison, but next thing she knew, Hattie's spoon had fallen into her porridge with a wet thud.

The bird that had majestically entered through the window was resplendent in fire and flame, its wingspan greater than what the window frame should have permitted.

It gave a soft thrill and landed on the back of Sirius' recently vacated chair, its reptilian eyes honing in on Hattie.

"Is this...?"

"A phoenix," Remus whispered next to her, tears pooling in his eyes. "It's so beautiful."

The phoenix had a letter hanging from his leg, and Hattie shook herself awake enough to retrieve it.

"Thank you," she said in a small voice. "Would you, uh, like something to eat? The owls always like the bacon best, but..."

She trailed off, unsure. The phoenix let its gaze wander over the table and hopped to a bowl of grapes, eating some. Sirius, who had come back to the table by then, looked just as shaken as Hattie felt.

"I've never seen a phoenix before," he whispered, "I... didn't know they had this effect on people. I mean, I learned about it at school, but this is... so much more than I expected."

Hattie only nodded, letting the strange yet weirdly familiar calm wash over her. That's when she realised: it felt exactly like bonding with her wand!

The phoenix, satisfied with its snack, turned its attention back on them and stared at Remus for a long moment. With the full moon the next night, the man had heavy bags under his eyes and the tremor in his body was visible even when he wasn't holding anything.

The phoenix gave another long, deep thrill and flared its massive, flaming wings before vanishing in a pillar of fire that didn't hurt, but instead warmed her to the core.

"Wicked," Hattie breathed, letter clutched firmly in her trembling hands. "Draco will never believe this."

"Remus, are you alright?" Upon hearing Sirius' worried voice, Hattie turned to the two men. Sirius had a steadying hand on Remus' shoulder because the old wolf looked shell-shocked.

"Yeah, just, just give me a minute," Remus whispered. "The phoenix, it... it spoke to the wolf. Calmed him right down, I can hardly feel its call at _all_ and it's so close to the full moon, I've... never experienced anything like this."

Hattie looked questioningly to Sirius, but her father was already pulling Remus into a tight hug that had the taller man curl into him.

Satisfied that her presence was no longer needed, Hattie took her letter upstairs to her room to give the men some privacy. Deciding against flopping onto the bed because she was a big girl now, Hattie made her way over to her tidy desk and sat down on her comfy desk chair.

She grabbed her letter opener and looked properly at the envelope for the first time. In small, elegant handwriting, it simply read:

_'Miss Black'_

The parchment was thick and glossy, the paper even more high quality than that of the Hogwarts letter had been. There was even a seal on the back of it– a stylised snake head with a feather forming a kind of halo around it. It was pretty, so she opened the envelope with her letter opener and put it to the side.

The parchment made a satisfying rustling sound when she unfolded the letter and the letter it bore was written in the same handwriting as the address on the front. It was a lot longer than she might have expected.

-o-

_Dear Miss Black, _

_I hope my familiar Ignatius has found you in good health and surprised you and your family not overly much. Alas, I find that I trust only him with my most important correspondence these days, and the matter I write to you about is indeed of the utmost importance to me. Also, he was very adamant about meeting the young witch his feather chose as soon as possible. _

_Miss Black, I am going to be blunt here despite your youth: my whole life up until this point, I thought myself to be the only Parselmouth in all of the British Isles. Imagine my surprise when dear Professor Crouch told me about your gift upon his return last evening. _

_I am sure you have many questions about your unique ability, and I would be honoured to be the one to answer them all; especially about the ill-studied, ancient art of Parselmagic. A little teaser: it is exceptionally well-suited for all forms of healing magic. _

_Should you be amenable to my proposal, I would kindly ask that you request your father's permission to arrange a meeting with me. I will gladly meet at a destination of your choosing, whether it be your home or a more neutral location. However, Hogwarts is out of the question since your first glimpse of any part of the castle should be on the evening of September 1st like the other first years. _

_The floo address is as follows: Hogwarts Castle, Headmaster's Office_

_I will be available from 10 am to 14 am today while working on the school budget for the coming year. _

_Yours sincerely, _

_Tom Marvolo Riddle_

-o-

Hattie did not squeak. It was an excited shout, maybe even a rather girly one at that, but never a squeal. She had standards.

She read the letter again and stopped at the first paragraph. What must it be like, thinking you're the only one with an ancient talent for so long? Not for the first time since The Revelation, as she liked to call it in her head, did she wonder how exactly she had acquired her gift.

She was pretty sure that Sirius had to be right in thinking that neither the Blacks nor the Potters had ever had a parselmouth in their family tree. There were only two other options, she concluded. Either Professor Crouch had been right and her mother came from a line of squibs descended from Salazar Slytherin himself, or it was a genetic fluke and she had hit jackpot.

Whatever it was, she was going to make sure that Headmaster Riddle was going to think her worthy of being taught Parselmagic!

Mind thus made up, she got out one of her new notebooks with little dancing umbrellas on the front cover and opened it. On the inside cover, she wrote 'Harriet Jasmine Black' and on the first page

_'PARSEL-_

_TONGUE'_

in her best handwriting. After a moment's hesitation she drew a snake around the title that was eating its own tail. Uncle Regulus had called it an Ouroboros and apparently, it had something to do with alchemy. Among other things at least, so she thought it very fitting.

She started writing down questions as they popped into her mind, afraid she'd forget them.

1\. Was Salazar Slytherin the first parselmouth?

2\. Is everyone who is descended from him a parselmouth? (At least the men?)

3\. Are there parselmouths in other parts of the world?

4\. Have you met them?

5\. Can anyone learn parseltongue if they try really, really hard?

6\. Can you speak parseltongue with each other or only with snakes?

Her musing was stopped short when there was a knock on her door.

"Come in," she called, screwing her ink pot shut and blowing on her writing.

Her father opened the door with a smile, walking over to her bed and patting the spot beside him. Hattie eagerly skipped over, letter and notebook held tightly in her hand.

Sirius took the letter from her while she snuggled into his side. When he was done reading, he huffed out a soft laugh.

"Written like a true lord," he commented. "Old Tiberius Nott couldn't have phrased it better than this, and he's a stickler for protocol."

"Is Riddle a Lord's name, then?," Hattie asked, wondering whether she'd ever heard it mentioned when Sirius spoke about the Wizengamot.

Sirius shook his head. "No, it's a muggle name. Though, come to think of it, being descended from Slytherin you'd think he would claim the title of Lord Slytherin."

"There's a Lord Slytherin? Is there also a Lord Ravenclaw and Gryffindor and Hufflepuff?"

"Well, yes and no. Technically, as far as I know, they exist but lie dormant." Sirius tapped his knee with the letter. "I know that the Smiths, they have a boy your age, are descendants of Helga Hufflepuff. Now that we're talking about it, I find I actually have no idea why they don't claim the Hufflepuff lordship... There must be some legal conditions or something. Some of that Lord business is still beyond me if I'm perfectly honest, but I'll see whether there's something I can discreetly find out."

Hattie couldn't hold in an undignified snort at that and Sirius pouted.

"Aw come on, daughter dearest, you wound me! I can be discreet if I want to." Sirius pretended to be pouting and Hattie giggled. "But seriously, it might be a sensitive topic for Headmaster Riddle. Best not bring it up if you want to stay on his good side."

Zeroing in on what was important to her at the moment, Hattie beamed up at him.

"So I can meet him?," she asked eagerly.

"Of course," Sirius replied somberly. "I won't stand in the way of your quest for knowledge of obscure magics."

"Runes aren't obscure, father! Just because you were too lazy to take it in school doesn't make it a dead subject. Remus studied it, Regulus studied it and Draco told me there's a very nice young professor with a very stylish headscarf teaching that very subject at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at this very moment!"

"Technically, school's out for summer," Sirius teased, but held up his hands in surrender when Hattie took a deep breath to argue some more. "I'm just having you on, dear. Look, it's 10am, why don't you make yourself presentable and then we give your buddy in all things snake a floo call? I'm out the next couple of days on business and Remus isn't feeling his best, so why don't you ask him to come around on Sunday, or maybe Monday if his weekend's already full?"

Hattie thought about that and nodded. She wanted her future headmaster to come through right now, of course, but she understood that you had to be mature in some things.

"Yes, father, that would probably be for the best."

"Right, I'll leave you to it. Meet me in the sitting room when you're done."

With a wink and a smile, Sirius left the room and once again, Hattie was faced with the dilemma of what to wear. She'd scoffed at older girls for facing that very conundrum, but damn it all if she didn't understand them now!

-o-

Wearing a sensible black skirt that touched the top of her equally black dragonhide boots and a floaty white blouse with a grey overrobe thrown in for good measure, Hattie cautioned herself into striding down the stairs in measured steps. Her thick black hair was tied back in twin braids that bounced merrily on her shoulders with every step she took. She felt like a right proper lady at that moment.

At 10:30 am on the dot she danced into the sitting room with a spring in her step. Sirius was already waiting for her in dark informal robes with his own shoulder-length black hair neatly tied back with a ribbon.

"Ready?," he asked even though Hattie's expression alone was all the confirmation he needed.

He threw a handful of floo powder into the flames, put the calling mat on the floor and stuck his head in the green flames.

"Hogwarts Castle, Headmaster's office," he called out in a clear voice. "Headmaster Riddle, are you there? ... Yes, thank you, very well. It's an honour to make your acquaintance. Would you mind stepping through while we talk? My knees aren't what they used to be and we wouldn't want my daughter sneaking a peek at old Hogwarts. ... No, not an imposition at all. We won't keep you long, either."

Sirius got up from the ground, putting the cushioned mat back next to the fireplace.

"Alright Hattie, he's coming through now so we can talk shop. No point of us two relaying things to each other and I wouldn't want the headmaster on his knees either."

With that, the floo chimed and a very tall, well-dressed man stepped through. He looked to be in his early forties and had neatly parted, wavy dark brown hair. His robes were obviously tailored to fit and Hattie was very glad she'd put on the overrobe after all.

The headmaster took his new surroundings in with an appraising glance and nodded as if he approved of it. He gave Sirius a nod and then turned to her with bright, chocolate brown eyes.

"_Heiress Black, it's an honour to make your acquaintance_." He took her hand when she offered it and kissed the back of her hand ever so lightly. His lips were very soft, not like the chapped lips of some of the older wizards she'd had to endure over the years.

"_The honour is all mine, Headmaster Riddle_." She took care to make the best curtsy she could and looked up, up, up at his amused face. Her face scrunched up a little in irritation. Was her curtsy really that bad?

"We just spoke Parseltongue with each other," he explained with a smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. "That's an experience I have never shared with another human before."

Hattie's hands flew to her mouth. "I didn't even notice! I guess that answers Questions 6, at least."

Riddle laughed at that, an altogether pleasant sound.

"Just as dear Bart- ah, Professor Crouch reported, a Ravenclaw through and through." He wore a fond smile, but whether for her or Crouch, she didn't know. "Though you might just end up in Slytherin after all once I've told you about our noble Lord Slytherin and our heritage."

"So you're sure you're related?," Sirius asked, standing next to her and Riddle. "Have you already got some confirmation?"

Riddle shook his head. "Not yet, though I've asked the goblins and some other contacts to look into it. I feel there's no other way but for young Miss Black to be descended from Slytherin on her birth mother's side."

"Or maybe it's a very improbable genetic mutation?" Hattie put on her thinking face, trying to find yet other possibilities though she did rather fancy being related to a wizard as universally admired as Riddle.

The man in question gave a delighted laugh.

"You taught the girl genetics?," he asked Sirius.

"Not me, I'm afraid," Sirius admitted. "My brother, Regulus. He's a curse breaker for Gringotts, and for some reason he's very well-versed in muggle sciences. He taught Hattie the odd subject or two or five."

"Oh, but we didn't want to keep you from your work, Headmaster!" Hattie realised. "This was supposed to be about finding a date for our proper meeting."

"Very sensible of you, young lady," Riddle nodded. "When are you free? I shall make the time for our discussion."

"Well, father will be out of the house til the weekend and uncle Remus is sick until Saturday, so starting on Sunday, I'll be available." Hattie took great care to be both concise and accurate, something uncle Peter had practiced with her from time to time.

"Sunday it is. I must admit, I am most eager to share my knowledge about this niche subject with someone who can appreciate it with, well, all they are. I shall call on you at 10 am?"

Hattie felt like a proper grown-up when she gave a firm nod. "That would be most agreeable, headmaster."

"We will see you on Sunday then, headmaster," Sirius agreed with a proud smile directed at Hattie.

With a last bow at father and daughter, Riddle took a handful of floo powder when the bowl was offered to him by Sirius and was gone in a flash of green flame.

"What do you think?," Sirius asked. "Did you like him?"

Hattie thought about it, then nodded. "He is very well-mannered, and he didn't treat me like a little child. I don't like it when other lords and ladies treat me like one."

"Hah, some of them sure like pinching cheeks a little too much, figuratively speaking," Sirius laughed. "But you're absolutely right, he's a perfect gentleman. As he should be, really, being in charge of so many of our countries young minds."

"Did you know him? From before, I mean? Was he your teacher?"

Sirius shook his head. "No, I left Hogwarts in, oh, it must have been the summer of 1978. I was two years out of school when you arrived, you see. Riddle didn't start teaching at Hogwarts until at least a couple years later. Uncle Regulus was… two years behind me, maybe he had him in DADA? I know he took a NEWT in that subject."

"What's a dada, father?"

"Oh right. Uh, before Dark Arts was taught in Hogwarts, there was a subject called 'Defence Against the Dark Arts'," Sirius explained. "It was implemented by Armando Dippet back during World War 2 and was all about defending yourself against Dark Wizards and Creatures."

Hattie snorted. "That's silly. I live with a Dark Wizard and a Dark Creature and I've never had to defend myself in my life. Was Dippet one of those people who couldn't differentiate between Dark and Light and good and evil?"

"Him and dear old Minnie alike, I'm afraid. It wasn't until Riddle became Headmaster in the eighties that this belief started to be challenged in Hogwarts, as far as I know. Outside in society, it was a big talking point for a couple years and nowadays only the hardliners still stick to that rigid dichotomy."

Hattie nodded thoughtfully.

"I can't wait for Hogwarts," she grinned. "Seeing all my friends every day… I just wish we didn't get Sorted so we could have slumber parties with everyone."

"Well, at least you'll have Common Rooms for all the Houses together," Sirius whined. "Back in my day, and don't I feel like an old man for saying that, we could only study with our friends from other houses in the library. And good luck getting any talking done there when you get shushed every other word!"

"I do wonder where everyone will end up… we'll have to talk about that some more at my party! And I think I'll go write that letter to Uncle Regulus now." Hattie took a deep breath and looked pleadingly at her father. "I really, really, _really _need to tell him about the Parseltongue, father."

Sirius huffed. "Yeah yeah, Uncle Regulus the Good Advice Dispenser of this family. Go on then, see if _I_ care."

Sirius' ridiculous fake pout made Hattie laugh and she gave him a big hug before darting up the stairs.

-o-

It took her quite a while and a lot of thinking to finish the letter to her favourite uncle but when she did, she was very pleased with herself.

_Dear Uncle Regulus, _

_I hope things are going fine in the Catacombs of Paris and my new owl Hedwig has found you without problems. This has probably been her first flight over the channel, so please care for her until she's fit enough for the way back._

_There's lots of things I need to tell you! Father and I went to Diagon Alley yesterday to get my school things and I made a new friend. Her name is Hermione Granger and she's a muggleborn. She was with Deputy Headmaster Crouch who was taking her because her parents couldn't and we spent the day together. Father said Professor Crouch was three years behind him in school, so he must have been only one year behind you. Were you friends? _

_Father insisted on me getting one of those multi-compartment trunks but at least I'll be able to take all the books I need with me. _

_The first unexpected thing happened when I got my wand. Hermione and me were alone at Ollivander's and it took over half an hour to find the right wand for me! And then, when I did, I made half the store explode! I was so sorry but they all said it was fine and that these things happen… _

_Anyway, the core of my wand (11", holly, phoenix feather) was actually the only feather the headmaster's phoenix has ever given for wand-making purposes! Can you believe that? Such an honour, and there I go, destroying poor Mr. Ollivander's store with it. _

_But the strange coincidences didn't stop there, Regulus. While Hermione was picking out a cat, I heard a voice in the back of the store and it turned out to be a snake, so… I'm a parselmouth! Apparently the first female one in recorded history which is a bit of a daunting title if I'm being honest. As you might know, the only other Parselmouth in the British Isles is, again, the headmaster. _

_Professor Crouch thought that maybe I'm related to him, and thus descended from Salazar Slytherin, through my birth mother's side. Or have you ever read something about a parselmouth in the Black family in our library? _

_Headmaster Riddle was here just now very briefly and agreed to teach me about Parseltongue and its history. Did you know there was a whole branch of magic called Parselmagic? Apparently, it's well-suited for healing spells. I could see myself becoming a healer, actually. _

_He'll come here again on Sunday when Father is home and Remus is back up and running. Father has a lot to do at the ministry these days. I swear, one of those days he'll spend even more time there than Uncle Lucius. It's a good thing they mostly have the same agenda– otherwise their hard work would probably cancel each other out. _

_Oh, I also bought the snake that spoke to me. He bonded to me when I gave him a name (Fang) and I swear he looks like a little dragon. He's a red hairy bush viper but maybe he's a lindwurm and nobody knows. I'll keep you updated! _

_Your favourite niece, _

_Hattie_

_PS: I miss you dearly! I hope you can make it home for Yule so we may celebrate together. _

-o-

Making sure Hedwig was sufficiently well-rested, fed and watered, Hattie spent a good long while watching her get ever smaller on the horizon until she couldn't see her anymore.

Waiting for a reply was going to be torture, but uncle Regulus always thought about things differently than anyone else she knew. If anyone was going to be able to put everything into perspective for her it was going to be him.

-o-

**PSA: Please remember that Riddle has always been described as charismatic; he has very much retained that characteristic in this universe and Hattie is only ten years old at the moment. Don't be frustrated when she keeps on thinking he's the bee's knees for quite some years to come. (And really, can you blame her? Breathing life into a sane Tom Riddle is about 65% of my motivation for this story.) **

**So, while I love me some super smart first graders ending world hunger, abolishing bigotry and solving all the problems of the universe from time to time, the children in this story are, fundamentally, children and they will act as such :**

**The next chapter will be out this weekend by which time I shall adapt a weekly update schedule, I'd wager. Have a fantastic rest of the week! **


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - A Brief History Lesson

The next couple days leading up to Sunday passed without anything of note happening - well, except for Remus' disappearance on Friday evening and being in his room all of Saturday afterwards, but that was hardly noteworthy anymore - and Hattie spent her time writing letters to her friends, reading her new school books while taking notes and speaking to Fang about what life was like as a snake. Evidently, being sufficiently warm and having a full belly were of utmost importance to the point where everything else paled in comparison. Talking to a speaker was a close third.

Before she knew it, Sunday had arrived. The sun was shining down mercilessly outside and even inside, it was rather stuffy. The cloying kind of atmosphere made her feel like she was in a house for tropical birds.

Opting for a light, sleeveless linen dress in a rosé colour, she grudgingly put on an overrobe of equally airy silk in an understated mocca hue. She took a little more time with her hair today, first braiding it into half a dozen smaller plaits and then arranging them artfully into a bun on the top of her head.

Aunt Cissa, who didn't have a daughter of her own, had taken great delight in spending long afternoons teaching Hattie all about proper attire and hairstyles fit for a lady of her standing. The plaited bun, as she liked to call it, signalled studiousness and endurance. It hadn't been hard to choose a hairstyle in this case.

Unfortunately, she was already done at a quarter to ten. Hattie was pacing around the sitting room when Sirius found her there soon after, picked her up and deposited her into one of her favourite cozy armchairs.

She smiled bashfully up at him and arranged her robes with a slight blush.

At exactly 10am, the floo chimed and Headmaster Riddle stepped out of the flames with the same casual elegance as last time.

"Headmaster Riddle, right on time. It's good to meet you again," Sirius greeted like a perfect host ought to, shaking the man's hand. "My daughter has been expecting you."

At that, Hattie stepped forward and accepted another kiss on the back of her hand from her future headmaster.

"It's an honour to have you teach me personally, headmaster," she said with a curtsy. "I had the house elves prepare a pot of tea, if you'd like?"

"Certainly, young miss," Riddle replied and took a seat at the table where Hattie indicated. Only when he had sat down did she take her own seat.

Before pacing the room like a caged nundu, Hattie had actually taken the time to prepare a table for their lesson. On her side, it had her notebook and writing equipment while his side was empty as of yet. There were two dainty cups of tea waiting for them.

"Right," Sirius said, clapping his hands. "I'll leave you to it– to be perfectly honest, I'm not all that interested in snake history and the hissing gives me the creeps. But if there's anything you need, Hattie, I'll be in the Lord's Study, alright?"

"Alright," Hattie agreed easily, watching Sirius leave with a fond smile. She knew he'd gotten rid of History of Magic immediately after scraping by with an A in his O.W.L.s.

Turning back to an expectant Riddle, she gave him a smile and returned her attention to the table.

"Gamma, the tea please," she asked politely when she had sat down.

With a telltale house elf plop, a steaming pot of tea and a little tray laden with fresh biscuits appeared on the table.

Hattie played mother and prepared the tea - Riddle took his with just a splash of citrus - and then she looked at him expectantly.

"You have very nice manners," Riddle commented. "Many children your age wouldn't care for half of the things you've observed so far. How is that?"

"My aunt Cissa has been very adamant that I should strive to be a lady of the House of Black," Hattie explained. She leaned in conspiratorially and dropped her voice to a whisper. "And I've _always_ loved tea parties. Never thought I'd have one with my headmaster of all people."

Riddle actually gave a low chuckle at that.

"I'm glad to be of service," he drawled. "But to business."

He took a fortifying sip of his tea, and only then did Hattie drink from her own cup. She hadn't even noticed, but Riddle had brought a briefcase, the ones law wizards such as Uncle Peter usually had with them. From it, he drew several notebooks not unlike her own.

"These contain much of what I learned about Parseltongue when i was a young man," he explained. "I mostly brought them as a memory aid, and because I did the odd illustration or two."

Hattie nodded and opened her own notebook to the first page.

"I did illustrations, too," she grinned. "It's an ouroboros, uncle Regulus told me about them. They are very important for alchemists because they represent the, uh, cyclical nature of things."

Riddle stared at her with his dark eyes.

"And you like alchemy?"

Hattie nodded vigorously. "Oh yes, absolutely! I can't wait for third year when we can choose electives. I'll take Alchemy and Runes and either Arithmancy or Care of Magical Creatures. I plan on doing a mastery in either Alchemy or Runes, actually, but I _really _can't decide which, yet."

Riddle was quiet for a moment.

"I teach the Alchemy elective," he told her.

"Oh," she breathed, delighted. "Do you… take apprentices?"

"I've only ever taken on one and that was for another subject," Riddle answered in fond remembrance. "I must say that I have quite enjoyed teaching young Barty all there is to know about the Dark Arts. Or, well, Professor Crouch to you. Who's to say I shan't do such again?"

Hattie nodded thoughtfully. It was strange, she thought, but she really could see herself being related to this man. They had a lot in common, and it would be ever so nice to have found another magical blood relative on her mother's side. She'd met her maternal aunt and her family, once, and Hattie hadn't come out of her room for two whole days afterwards.

"Why don't we start with what you already know about Parseltongue," Riddle cut through her musings. "Don't worry, this is not a test. I just want to see what we're working with here."

"Sure," Hattie beamed. "I'm afraid I don't know much because there really is very little general knowledge out there, and in the last two days I couldn't quite seek out many sources. I scoured our library with our oldest house elf, yesterday, but I only ever found mentions of Parseltongue.

One thing I know for sure is that Salazar Slytherin was a Parseltongue and that it's genetic. I don't know if all his male descendants had the gift, but it must have at least been passed down recessively for long enough for you to inherit it, obviously.

What else… well, there was a Dark Wizard called Herpo the Foul in Ancient Greece who was allegedly a parselmouth who also bred the first basilisk, but I only know that from his chocolate frog card and not a reputable source.

I also know that there's Parselmagic, but I know nothing substantiated about that, except what you told me about it being good for healing."

Riddle nodded, looking contemplative. "Surely you have theories about how Parselmagic works? Tell me about them."

Hattie opened her notebook and turned it around to show him a page full of little drawings.

"I have several, actually! I think you can use normal spells, only you say them in Parseltongue, and depending upon the spell, it changes the properties."

She pointed to the drawing of a stylised witch with long dark hair, with a speech bubble containing squiggly lines meant to signify Parseltongue. Over the bubble, it read '_Episky'_.

"Since _Episky_ is a healing spell and also contains the letter _S _I theorised that using Parseltongue enhances its properties."

She pointed to the magical aura around the figure, signified by a jagged line drawn wide around it.

"On the other hand, you have something like _Alohomora_. It is neither a healing spell nor does it contain an _S_, so using Parseltongue probably wouldn't change its properties." The figure speaking _Alohomora_ in Parseltongue didn't have a magical aura drawn. "But I don't know enough about magical theory to know whether this makes sense."

Riddle exhaled slowly and looked at the table top. Hattie thought for a second that her theories must have been quite silly indeed but Riddle just opened one of his own notebooks, turned it around and slid it over to her.

Hattie's hands flew to her mouth.

"Those look almost like _my_ drawings," she breathed.

There was a stylised wizard with dark, parted hair casting spells instead of a witch, and it looked a lot better than hers, but it was unmistakably the same basic idea. The wizard casting a healing spell with an _S _in it had a checkmark next to him, the one with a healing spell without an _S _had a checkmark as well, but the one with a standard charm, _Accio_, had a big x next to him.

"So I'm right?," she asked, pleasantly surprised.

Riddle nodded and took his notebook back. "You are indeed, yes. At least insofar as that my own experimentations have proven it true. After all, there is really no one to confirm my findings." He ate a biscuit and munched thoughtfully. "At least there wasn't anyone until now."

Hattie beamed at him. "So you'll teach me Parselmagic?" She knew it wasn't exactly proper behaviour for a young lady, but she was bouncing in her seat nonetheless. "I'd do _anything _to learn Parselmagic!"

"It would hardly be proper to ask for something in return from a child for teaching it," Riddle replied. "I came here today, in part, to find out whether I'd think it feasible to teach you Parselmagic on top of your regular workload in school and I think you would do fine– you are a very driven young lady. I merely have three conditions, and if they are met, I would gladly start properly teaching you in Parseltongue, Parselmagic and its history."

"Uncle Peter says you always have to be careful with conditions," Hattie explained. "Please don't take it the wrong way if I write them down so that I may think about them properly."

"Oh, quite the opposite," Riddle replied evenly. "First, I will need your father's explicit consent to teach his daughter in these Arts during the school year. Second, you will need to maintain at least EEs in all your studies, otherwise we will drop our lessons until your academics are again up to par. And lastly, third, I would ask for your permission to write scholarly articles about our findings, should we make any."

Hattie finished writing down the last condition and recapped her ink pot.

"Oh, I think those conditions will be fine," she grinned confidently. "Personally, I should be very cross with myself if I were to drop below an O anywhere if I can help it. Father will always be proud, but Uncle Regulus knows I could do better and would be most disappointed."

"Ah, young Regulus, of course," Riddle said wistfully. "He was in the very first N.E.W.T. class I taught back in 1978/79. You remind me of him, now that I think about it. Exceptional young man, brilliant mind. I offered him a spot as my first apprentice but he was keen on getting away from Britain. I would say it's a terrible shame, of course, if that hadn't opened up the spot for Professor Crouch. And last I heard, your uncle is as happy as he is busy with Gringotts."

"I'm not allowed to talk about much of it," Hattie shrugged, "but at the moment, he's working in the Catacombs underneath Paris. They have _real skeletons_ down there."

"The catacombs, is it?" Riddle stroked his chin. "They always bore a strange fascination, to be sure."

Gingerly picking up another biscuit, Riddle seemed lost in thought for a moment.

"Yes, Miss Black, I think I shall enjoy our lessons immensely. Once you've gotten your timetable at school, I shall send you a message and we will set up a schedule. Once every fortnight should be adequate, and we can adjust as we see fit." He emptied his tea cup. "Now, I understand you have a snake familiar? Would you care to show him to me?"

Hattie practically jumped from her chair. "I'll go get him, I won't be long!"

She didn't so much run as briskly walk up to her room, greeting Fang and letting the sleepy serpent coil around her arm with his head resting on the back of her hand.

Riddle was where she had left him, and when his eyes fell on Fang, they widened. He looked the youngest she'd seen him yet at that moment.

"_He's beautiful_," Riddle hissed in Parseltongue, eyes sparkling. "_May I hold him?" _

"_He may, if you allow it, girl-child," _Fang answered, head surging upward. "_Strange times, having several speakers together." _

"_How do you know it's strange?_," Hattie asked while she handed him over.

Fang didn't have an answer for that, so Riddle did it for him.

"_There appears to be a collective storage of knowledge snakes can draw upon_." His long, thin fingers caressed the spikes on Fang's head. "_I have two theories: one, that all snakes, even the so-called _mundane_ ones, are inherently magical to a degree, or two, that conversing with a speaker allows them to use that person's magic to access the collective knowledge._"

"_So except for magical snakes, every snake is normal until a speaker basically awakens them to their potential?" _

"_Yes, that is precisely what it means. Personally, I think theory two is the more plausible one. But who knows, maybe we will find out something else." _

He gave Fang back to her and the small serpent curled up around her neck like a necklace.

"Headmaster, Professor Crouch told me you might make an exception with Fang, for me. I got a beautiful owl before I bonded to Fang and I don't think I could leave either of them at home. I mean, I would if I had to, but…"

"Consider it done," Riddle said gravely. "Make no mistake, Miss Black. There will be many accusing you of getting special treatment from me because of our lessons and to tell the truth– they will be right. Instead of being ashamed for it, though, I would ask you to own up to it and to show those people that there's a reason why I afford you that courtesy."

"I won't ever disappoint you of my own free will, headmaster. I will work hard and make uncle Regulus proud."

Riddle nodded. "Now then, this all took a lot longer than I had planned for it. Why don't you ask me your most pressing questions before I have to leave again?"

Fighting down a wave of disappointment because she never wanted this conversation to end, Hattie opened her notebook back up and leafed through to her questions.

"Uh, my first question was whether Slytherin was the first parselmouth, but since I learned about Herpo the Foul in the meantime, that obviously isn't the case. Hm, is everyone who is descended from Slytherin a parselmouth, or at least the men. Recessive allels, talked about it." She checked them off with her quill as she went. "Oh, are there other parselmouths at this moment living on this world?"

"There is a monastery in India that houses several, but they are not fond of outsiders. There might be some in Ilvermorny, one of the American schools for magic, but they're reluctant to talk about it. I went there as a young man but when I stated my business, they turned me away."

He looked very bitter when he talked about this and Hattie felt sorry for him.

"Are they your relatives? Not the monks, of course. The ones in Ilvermorny. Because if they are, that's _really_ mean."

"A branch from the Irish side of my… mother's family went to America in sixteen hundred something, so they're very far removed," he explained, face carefully blank.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry," Hattie apologised immediately.

"It's fine," Riddle replied with a sigh. "After all, they might be your relatives, too."

"I have _you_, that's enough decent wizarding relations on my birth mother's side," Hattie shrugged, delighted when that elicited a very, very faint blush on Riddle's high cheeks. "I have a muggle, or, well, probably squib aunt on my mother's side. Father took me to meet them for lunch when I was 9 because I wanted to learn about Lily's childhood since he only got to know her in Hogwarts, and even then only in later years. I… don't really want to talk about what happened there, right now. Maybe some other time. After all, she's your relative too, probably."

They both ate a biscuit in silence for some long seconds, until Hattie shook herself free from her memories.

"Right, question four is answered, question 6, too but question five..! Now this one is interesting." She looked at him expectantly. "Can anyone learn Parseltongue if they try really, _really_ hard?"

"No," Riddle said simply. "Professor Crouch is a very intelligent young man and we tried diligently for a whole month but nothing he ever tried to speak in Parseltongue was anything more than a human trying to hiss."

Hattie's shoulders drooped. "I bet Hermione would have loved to learn Parseltongue," she murmured. "But there's nothing for it. Alright, what was Salazar Slytherin like? Was he a nice man like you? Because it says in _Hogwarts: A History_ that he and Godric Gryffindor had a dispute over the muggleborn students and that he didn't like them and left the school because of that. I'd be sad to think that he wouldn't have wanted my birth mother or my friend at Hogwarts."

"That is a very difficult question, Miss Black. The founding of Hogwarts lies so far back in time that all accounts must be viewed with the understanding that time may have taken its toll on the accurateness of their portrayals." He took a sip from his tea that Hattie had filled up earlier. "From my own research, I have concluded the following: He was no less and no more brilliant than his fellow founders, and no more cruel than, let's say, Helga Hufflepuff was. Those were hard times, and hard times make for hard men. And women, of course. The reason he didn't want to teach the muggleborn children, from what I have gathered, was rooted in fear."

"Fear? Why was someone as powerful as Salazar Slytherin afraid of muggleborn students?"

"Not of them, necessarily," Riddle explained. "He was afraid of their families, their villages, their lords. The Statute of Secrecy was not even a thought in wizardkind's mind, back then. Muggles were afraid of those who had magic and what they don't understand, they fear, and if left to fester, that fear will turn to hate. There are still poems today, written by muggles, about the fair folk taking children away. They have their roots from when muggleborn children were taken from their families to be taught magic.

When they returned to their families, they didn't recognise their children anymore. They could read, and write, even change reality itself in the eyes of the muggles."

"That's where the idea of changelings came from," Hattie realised, eyes wide. "Salazar Slytherin was afraid the muggles would all come together and wage war on Hogwarts because they took their children!"

Eyes adequately opened, Hattie sunk back into her chair with a long exhale of air.

"There's a lot of preconceptions," she whispered, "isn't there? You want to change that."

"We all want our ancestors to be remembered for what they stood for. Nothing more, nothing less." Riddle paused. "But don't just take my word for it. I will supply you with some very old sources while under my tutelage so you can make up your own mind."

Hattie nodded, numb.

"Thank you, headmaster. I think I'll need to sleep on everything I learned today."

"Certainly, Miss Black." He got up from his chair, walked around the table and pulled her chair out for her. "Would you call for your father so I may discuss my first condition with him?"

Hattie had a house elf do exactly that, and just a couple minutes later Sirius joined them in the sitting room.

"Learn much?," Sirius asked with a small smile. "You've been in here for quite some time."

"I should think your daughter is going to require the rest of the day to sort through all the controversial knowledge I have dumped on her," Riddle admitted.

"Controversial," Sirius repeated, suspicious. "Controversial _how_, exactly?"

"He told me about Salazar Slytherin, father," Hattie explained, expression solemn. "He wasn't a bigot, he was just afraid of the muggles waging war on the wizards!"

"Oh," Sirius said, taken aback by the intensity of her gaze. "Poor… him? Well, he might be your ancestor, so I guess it's nice to know he wasn't a _complete_ bastard."

"Father, language!," Hattie chided, exasperated.

"Got your focus off the thing that made you sad, though, didn't it?," he countered with a wink that had even Riddle's mouth give a treacherous little smirk.

"Morgana save me," Hattie grumbled.

"Excuse me for interrupting," Riddle interjected, not looking sorry at all. "I wanted to ask your explicit permission to start teaching your daughter in the ancient art of Parselmagic and continue teaching her the history of my, well, _our _ancestors when she arrives at Hogwarts."

Hattie fetched her notebook and showed Riddle's conditions to Sirius.

"Pretty straightforward and sensible," Sirius commented. "I guess you really could be related. Well, who am I to stop my daughter in her pursuit of all things obscure."

He gave Hattie back her notebook and turned to Riddle. Extending a hand to the headmaster with his back straight and gaze focused, he was suddenly all Pureblood lord again.

"I hereby grant you, Headmaster Thomas Marvolo Riddle, permission to teach my daughter about your shared ancestry, your shared gift and whatever else you think might help her succeed in what she wants to succeed in."

"Much obliged," Riddle replied, tilting his head in the slightest of bows. "But before I leave– I understand you have a birthday coming up, Miss Black?"

"I'll turn eleven on Wednesday," Hattie confirmed.

She watched him reach into his briefcase and pull out a present wrapped in glossy green wrapping paper.

"I trust you will be able to wait until the day of," Riddle cautioned, and was that actually a note of teasing in his voice?

Hattie chose to be the bigger person and accepted the parcel with sincere thanks.

-o-

It was already near the end of August when Hedwig returned with Regulus' reply. The owl was hungry, thirsty and fell asleep on her perch in Hattie's room immediately after gorging herself but most importantly, she was well.

Not even fully awake yet as it was still early, Hattie tore open the letter and rubbed the sleep from her eyes to read it. Not for the first time she thanked Morgana that Sirius had taken her to a magical ophthalmologist at six years old to get her eyes cured. She would have hated to have to wear glasses all the time.

-o-

_My dear Harriet, _

_First of all, I wish you a belated Happy Eleventh Birthday! _

_Things in Paris are doing great, as am I. Your owl found us just fine, but I was on shift when she arrived and completely understand how it is that you chose this bird among all others. _

_You see, our shifts below ground last up to a week and Hedwig arrived right at the beginning of mine. She accepted food and drink from my colleagues but the second they tried to relieve her of her burden, she all but turned into a harpy and fought them off. When I got back into base camp a week later, she was as docile as can be when I took the letter, the cheeky little thing. She's as hard-headed as you, my dear– you chose well. _

_I'm glad you found a kindred spirit in Hermione. It'll be good for you to have another female friend at Hogwarts. And speaking of friends, Barty and me were indeed friendly in school. He was a Ravenclaw, while I was a Slytherin (as you well know) and we were both on the quidditch teams. We also studied together from time to time; I taught him some of the Dark Spells and Rituals from our family library and he, in turn, helped me with Arithmancy even though he was a year below me. He really was quite brilliant. I am very happy he's made something of himself. Tell him I said Hi when you see him again at Hogwarts, will you? _

_Now, on to juicier topics. First of all, I was astounded when I read of your gift. As far as I know, there has indeed never been a Parselmouth in the Black family though I'm sure many would have given their wandarm for a talent like this. We only have recessive metamorphmagic in our magic which cousin Dora ended up with, but you know that. _

_When you receive this letter, you will have already met properly with Tom Riddle. I'm looking forward to reading what he's taught you so far. He was actually my Defense Against the Dark Arts (no longer taught like this) teacher in my last year and got me so prepared, I actually scored an O+ on my N.E.W.T. exam. He offered me an apprenticeship but you know how the family situation was for me and Sirius back then. I just wanted to get out of Britain. _

_I shall make discreet inquiries into how you two might be related. Rule out foul play, you know. He'll have probably contracted Gringotts to look into the matter and my supervisors should be able to get me in touch with the right people. _

_Riddle, while a great man, is not necessarily a good one and he's always had an interest in our families vast trove of knowledge. I would ask you to be cautious of him. He's a master legilimens and we don't want any Black family secrets falling into the wrong hands. As long as you're wearing your heir rings, you should be fine, but I'd still feel better if you were at least a passable occlumens. There are some books about it in our library– have Remus help you look. Even though the wolf makes him immune to most mind magicks, he has a passing interest in Occlumency either way. My dear brother won't be much help in this endeavour; he simply never had the passion for it because he had the Heir ring and he knew that one day, the Lord's ring would pass to him. _

_Please send Hedwig to Gringotts in London with your next replies and properly address them to 'Regulus Arcturus Black II'. She's still young and the journey from Scotland to Paris will be too taxing on her. I have told the goblins and they will send your letters with our other supplies. _

_If you want to write to me before leaving for school, you might want to use your father's owl. _

_And lastly, I do hope you will have the best of times at Hogwarts, Harriet. Follow your heart, stand by your friends and study hard. You will be in my thoughts, my dear. _

_Your favourite uncle, _

_Regulus_

_PS: I can't promise anything but I'll try to be with you on Yule. I miss you too. _

_PPS: One of my younger coworkers, Bill Weasley's the name, told me his two younger brothers are going to be in your year at Hogwarts. Apparently, they're twins and quite the little pranksters. I'm to tell you that if they give you grief, you tell them that there'll be no more funding for 'W.W.W.' if they keep it up. They are supposed to know what this means. _

-o-

Hattie tried really hard, but a couple of silent tears fell from her eyes and onto her bed anyway. She wished Regulus was here right now but she knew that was foolish. She'd see him at Yule hopefully, that would have to do.

Steeling herself, she opened the small present that had been in the envelope and found a beautiful little pocket watch inside. It was made of silver with delicate roman numerals and a fine chain from equally fine silver. The clock hands were actual hands pointing at the time which, for some reason, made her giggle.

There was a folded-up note with it.

_'This is not only a pocket watch– it's a goblin-made foe glass. Turn it around and you will be able to fold it out at the back. Being fashioned by goblins, it won't show up on any scans but for the most advanced of spells. Use it wisely and use it often.' _

Fiddling with the back, Hattie soon located a small clasp that let the back of the pocket watch swing out. It was a smoky screen, very much like a bigger one Regulus had shown her that he himself owned. Examining it closely, she could make out the faintest outlines of wavering black silhouettes at the very back of the smoky screen. She supposed it was only natural, being the heiress to two powerful houses and all.

With a shudder, she remembered how Sirius had let slip once that he regularly received marriage proposals for her.

She vowed to make sure to heed Regulus' advice and use the foe glass regularly in Hogwarts. Putting the pocket watch on her nightstand, she puttered over to Hedwig on silent feet and gently stroked the owl's feathered neck.

"You're a good girl, get as much rest as you need."

The owl merely hooted almost inaudibly and put her head under her wing. Hattie walked over to her desk and pulled a fresh sheet of parchment towards her. She had a letter to write before everyone else got up, and _then_ she was going to start packing for Hogwarts.

-o-

**Next chapter, we'll finally be off to Hogwarts! :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 - The Journey **

The thursday before she was supposed to leave for Hogwarts, Hattie asked for the use of Sirius' horned owl to send her letter for Regulus to Gringotts. In it, she'd told him about her first lesson with Riddle and that the man had gifted her a book about Occlumency and another about Salazar Slytherin's life for her birthday.

… _so you see, he wants to make absolutely sure my secrets stay my own, as well. I'm still thankful for your caution, of course, and will dedicate what time I have to the study of Occlumency. Also, having an eidetic memory sounds super useful. Hermione already has that which is as unfair as it's wicked! _

_Speaking of Hermione, I had her come early on my birthday to dress her up a little. Some of my guests are, after all, very traditional and they would accept her a lot better if she looked the part of a young witch. She's smaller than me, so I even managed to convince her to take some of the clothes I've outgrown with her to Hogwarts. That way, she won't stick out on the weekends when no one wears the boring school robes. _

_I also told her about only addressing people by last name until they've given you leave to use first names and stuff like that. It all went very smoothly, in the end, and I had a lovely day. It was just a shame Neville couldn't be here– he's in Spain with his parents, you see, the Longbottoms have plantations there where they grow potion ingredients that need more sun than Britain has to offer. _

_Also, I'm not really supposed to tell anyone, but I need to tell __someone__ that uncle Peter gave me a map of Hogwarts that the Marauders made when they were in Hogwarts. It is supposed to show where everyone is at all times but he made me promise to activate it only after I've been at school a couple weeks so I'm as surprised by the layout of the school etc. as the other firsties._

…

-o-

The Hogwarts Express was _massive_. Hattie couldn't stop staring and was pulled away from the platform's fireplace by Sirius.

"C'mon, pup, or the next arrival will bowl you over and you'll have to go to St. Mungo's instead of Hogwarts."

Thus broken out of her reverie, Hattie let him put some distance between them and the fireplace. And not a moment too soon, it was! In a rush of green flames, a tall youth stepped out, followed by his parents.

Gosh, but he looked so big!

Hattie looked around the platform and realised for the first time just how many students there were going to be. It was only 10am, so still early, yet it was Sunday and there were already lots of families milling around the platform.

Suddenly anxious, she turned to her father. "What are the older students like, father? Do they make fun of the first years a lot?"

Sirius pulled her into a big hug. "Don't worry. There used to be lots of hexing between classes and even proper bullying in some cases, but your headmaster has been cracking down hard on that. When you have a problem, you just talk to one of your heads of houses or the counselor wizard. And most older students from your own house are going to show you the ropes. Tell you about shortcuts, show you the way around, stuff like that."

She bravely looked up at him and nodded her thanks.

"And when everything else fails," Remus said, pulling Hattie into a hug of his own, "you write us a letter and I'll sic Padfoot on them."

Hattie actually laughed at that and she immediately felt lighter.

"Thanks, you guys," she giggled. "Alright, I can _do_ this! Let's go see if one of my friends is already here so that we can get a compartment of our own."

It didn't take them very long to spot the Malfoys with their light blonde hair all standing huddled together. Aunt Cissa was fussing over a very conflicted-looking Draco. Hattie knew he was going to take the separation from his parents as hard as she did.

"Draco," she called and ran towards them. Her cousin looked very relieved to have a reason for escaping his mother's last-minute ministrations.

"Hattie," he greeted with a smile. "Uncle Sirius, Remus. I'm glad you're early, too."

While the adults were busy greeting each other, Hattie pulled Draco away a little.

"Thank Merlin, Hattie," Draco whispered. "I fear mother wants to smother me with her affection before we can leave."

"Behave," Hattie chided. "She loves you, and this is the first time she'll not be able to see you in almost four months! Well, unless you hurt yourself really bad and they have to visit you in the infirmary, of course."

"Which I _won't_, obviously, because I'm very sensible," Draco shot back. "By the way, did you know they used to teach Potions to first years when our parents went to school? Apparently, there were lots of injuries from that."

"Really?," Hattie asked incredulously. "But potions are dangerous. How would you know what to avoid at all cost if you don't know about the basic reactions and ingredients? You can't learn that in a couple weeks!"

"Like I said," Draco shrugged, "_lots _of injuries. Exploding cauldrons, chopped-off fingers– dreadful business all around."

Hattie shuddered just thinking about the kinds of injuries one might suffer from an exploding cauldron.

"Hattie, Draco, Neville's here!," Sirius called.

Both children turned around to see their friend wave at them from the apparition point. He ran towards them with his parents in tow and Hattie and Draco met them in the middle.

"Neville, you look amazing," Hattie cooed while they hugged. "Spain did you wonders!"

The boy's normally rather pale complexion had turned into a golden tan and his already fair hair was almost as pale as Draco's.

"Did you have fun at the plantations?," Draco asked while the boys shared a manly handshake.

"It was wicked," Neville replied enthusiastically. "You'd think Spain wasn't that different what with it being so close, geographically speaking, but it's a wholly different world. I had _tapas_ for dinner!"

Hattie and Draco both nodded sagely, neither willing to admit that they had no idea what a tapas was.

"Did you have a nice birthday, Hattie? We need to celebrate together again, next year. We could get all of our friends together during summer break."

"Yes, let's," Hattie agreed. "But now that we're three people already, we should go get a compartment for ourselves."

Together with Remus, Lucius and Frank who were carrying their bulky trunks, the three children climbed on the train and soon found an unoccupied compartment pretty much in the middle of the train.

With the adults securing their trunks up top, the children were busy celebrating having boarded the Hogwarts express.

"I can't believe it," Neville giggled. "We're finally off to Hogwarts!"

Giddy with excitement, they exited the train again to wait for more of their friends. The next to arrive was Hermione who came through the barrier alone.

Hattie ran to greet her.

"Mione, there you are!," she greeted. "Did you find it alright? What about your parents, I thought muggles could pass through the barrier if they know about it? Should I get an adult?"

"Oh, no, not at all, don't worry," Hermione chattered. "My parents didn't have much time today, so we said goodbye outside of King's Cross."

Hattie thought about it but then decided not to bring up how it was Sunday and that nothing could be more important than their child's first ride to Hogwarts. Instead, she helped Hermione with her trolley and asked Sirius and Remus to help with getting the girl's trunk and pet carrier on the train. Draco and Neville trailed behind them, drawn in by the train's ambient magic again.

With Frank and Alice talking to a family they knew some feet away, she was left alone with aunt Cissa and uncle Lucius.

"Your hair looks nice, Hattie," aunt Cissa complimented her, stroking a delicate hand over her herringbone braid. "New beginnings and bravery, with two hydrangea hairpins for the love you feel for your family. I taught you well."

"You did, aunt Cissa," Hattie sniffed, hugging the slight woman around the middle. "Thank you for everything."

"Watch out for my hot-blooded son, will you?", aunt Cissa asked, voice wavering slightly when she returned the hug. "I love him as much as I can love anything in this world."

Hattie nodded, too overcome by emotion to speak. Turning to uncle Lucius, she was about to extend a hand when the stoic man pulled her into a short hug. He smelled nice and clean, like a cold winter's night and a crackling fire roaring in the fireplace.

"You're a good girl," he told her. "You lot will do fine. Do remind Draco to send an owl, now and again, and send letters, too. Otherwise, my dear Cissy will worry herself to death."

Hattie agreed dutifully while aunt Cissa curled into Lucius and tapped him on the chest in mock-exasperation.

"Oh behave, husband," she admonished with a gentle smile. "Out of the both of us, you are the bigger worrywart."

"I won't even dignify that with an answer," Lucius replied, aloof, and Hattie giggled.

"You'd better board the train again, Hattie, it's getting late. Maybe your other friends are on the opposite side of the platform, but I'm sure they'll find you during the ride."

Hattie nodded, saying goodbye again and walking towards the train. Sirius and Remus exited at that moment and the three shared a tearful goodbye. Hattie promised to write either that evening or, if she was too tired, the next day at the _latest_, cross her heart.

Thus satisfied, the men led her board the train and bade her send Neville and Draco out again so they could say a last goodbye to their parents, as well.

Arriving at their compartment, Hattie sent the boys to their parents and shared an excited smile with Hermione.

They whispered briefly about how Hattie's study of the books she had gotten from Riddle was going before Neville and Draco returned. Both boys had suspiciously watery eyes and the girls pretended not to notice, choosing instead to talk about what they thought the Sorting was going to be like.

"I heard you have to answer some questions and based on what you answer, they will put you in the appropriate house," Draco mused, thankful for the diversion.

"But then you could just learn all the questions by heart and go to whatever house you want," Hermione said, shaking her head. "If you know the questions beforehand, that is."

"And _I_ heard that you can go to whatever house you want if you only want it bad enough," Neville said. "Gran said she was supposed to be in Ravenclaw but she wanted to be in Slytherin where her best friend had already been Sorted, so off to Slytherin she went."

"I really hope it's nothing embarrassing," Hattie whispered and the four exchanged worried glances.

"I should hope you don't get embarrassed on your first day," Hermione said, slowly, not quite sure of herself. "There was nothing about students being embarrassed or some being sent home or anything anywhere in _Hogwarts: A History_."

Thus mollified, the four talked about what they expected of their classes and teachers and fellow students– anything to get their minds off their parents who were still stood together on the packed platform.

When the second whistle sounded, they bravely looked outside the window again and started waving to their families. The train started moving with the telltale screech of powerful brakes being loosened and Hattie locked eyes with Sirius who gave her a brilliant smile.

"I love you," he mouthed, pale eyes misty, and she splayed her hand on the window on top of his.

"Love you, too," she whispered and then the express started moving in earnest.

Hattie felt her stomach sink when she lost sight of Sirius and Remus standing side by side on the platform and took a deep, steadying breath. The other three all looked different shades of miserable as well and before she realised it, Hattie was laughing.

"Look at us," she snorted. "This is supposed to be one of the best days of our lives and here we are, moping!"

"I wasn't moping," Draco defended himself half-heartedly and crossed his arms.

"Get off it," Neville laughed, glad for the distraction. "Let's talk about something else."

In the end, they went back to talking about Hogwarts, because of course they did, and passed their time constructing imaginary timetables, winning arguments against their professors and finding out potential secrets the old castle might offer. They were, all of them, very sure that they would be able to unravel lots of mysteries during their first year alone.

Draco and Neville left the compartment after an hour or so, wanting to find some other friends and say hello. Hattie was content to stay back with Hermione and keep chattering about what they had prepared for school. Soon after the boys had left, there was a commotion outside and two identical red-haired boys came rushing into their compartment.

Bewildered, the girls were about to ask what was going on when one of them held a finger up to his lips and the other pulled the curtains in front of the windows of the door.

"We might have accidentally let loose a flurry of Buzzing Bees," one explained.

"Terrible shame," the other continued. "And to know it targeted poor old Graham Montague whose father has been making our dad's life at the ministry a lot harder than it has any right to be…"

"It's a good thing, brother mine, that we were, of course, never anywhere near the boy."

"You're not, by chance, talking about 14-year-old Graham Montague, son of a Lord Reginald Montague," Hattie asked, innocently. "Who may or may not have gotten his father to send a number of marriage proposals to yours truly after having cornered me at one or two or five ministry functions starting when I was _seven_ _years_ old. _That _Graham Montague?"

The twins exchanged a short glance and one proceeded to sit next to Hermione while the other sat down next to Hattie.

"And if that were the case, little lady?," the one opposite her asked, just as innocently.

"Why, while I don't condone bullying generally, in this special case I would kindly ask you two gentlemen to continue telling us about yourselves, _just like_ _you've been doing since shortly after the train left King's Cross_."

The one next to her gave her a wicked smile. Hermione, on the other hand, looked mighty conflicted.

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Hattie?," she asked. "I don't want to get into any trouble."

Hattie looked at the twins.

"No one saw us," one said.

"Pinky promise, we just need an alibi in case Montague makes a fuss," the other added.

"Alright then. I'm Harriet Black but you may call me Hattie."

"Fred," the one opposite her said.

"And George, at your service."

"My name is Hermione Granger," her friend said, still not looking completely at ease. "You may call me Hermione. Say, Hattie, did this boy really _harass_ you when you were younger? That's so, so, _barbarian_!"

"I'm afraid so," Hattie answered, shuddering. "I mean, he was only ten as well, but hearing a ten-year-old talking about how strong and magical our babies would be? I was pretty traumatised for a while."

Turning back to the boys, she narrowed her eyes.

"Wait a minute, you don't happen to be the Weasley twins, do you?"

The boys' eyes were comically wide.

"How would an ickle firstie even know about us, Gred?"

"Beats me, Forge, they must be one of them witchfolk us sensible people hear about every so often."

"Your robes don't even have the trim from your house colours," Hermione accused, scandalised. "You're first years yourselves!"

Before the boys could respond to that, the door to their compartment opened after a short sharp knock and a woman in what must have been her early thirties entered.

Surveying them, her stern expression melted a little.

"First years, are you?" They all nodded, eyes wide. "I'm Professor Vector, I'm one of the professors on train duty today. Have you, by chance, witnessed anything unusual outside?"

"We heard someone shouting something about bees," Hattie explained, wringing her hands in her lap. "I'm allergic, you see, so we closed the curtains to make sure nothing could come in. Were they magical bees? Are they gone now?"

"All gone now, it was just a joke product called Buzzing Bees that's been popping up randomly over the last couple months. Nothing more than a nuisance and nothing you can be allergic to, but we don't tolerate that kind of behaviour at Hogwarts."

"Alright, good to know. Thanks professor," Hattie smiled.

"Don't worry about this, children," Professor Vector smiled back. "Enjoy the rest of your first train ride, me and my colleague will come back periodically to check on everyone."

When she was gone, the children waited in silence before Hattie rounded on Fred and George.

"I will be very clear about this: this was the first and last time I cover for you. Ever." She breathed in and out, trying to get her racing heart back under control. "This was the single most stressful experience of my _life_."

The twins had the decency to look properly chastised.

"Cor, Hattie, we didn't know there were professors on the train!," Fred replied, shaking his head.

"Bill and Charlie never said anything about this."

"You could have been expelled before you even properly started school!," Hermione admonished them, fuming. "And to pull me and Hattie into this! You _owe_ us, gentlemen."

"Big time," Hattie agreed. "Uncle Regulus said you were pranksters, but I don't think Headmaster Riddle will stand for bullying of any kind. No matter how justified it might be."

"But how else are we going to test products without an-" Fred was interrupted by George pulling him over next to him, clamping a hand over his mouth.

"Shush, brother mine, the ladies have a point. If we want to make it in good old Hogwarts we'll have to learn to be a _lot_ more subtle." Turning back to the girls, he ducked his head a little. "We really are sorry for having pulled you into this, it won't happen again."

"See that it won't, or I'll have to ask uncle Regulus to tell Bill that all investments in the W.W.W. are to be ceased immediately." Hattie crossed her arms and glared at the boys.

Her threat couldn't have been more effective if she'd tried. The boys' eyes grew huge and they shrunk back against the compartment wall.

"It seems, dear Gred, we have found our match."

"Wizards know about the internet?," Hermione whispered while Hattie kept staring the twins down. Hattie made a note to ask her about that later.

"Indeed, Forge," the other boy agreed. "We will think of a… different approach for our time at Hogwarts. But in the meantime– we're really sorry and we would really appreciate it if you were to allow us to stay in your humble compartment."

After a quick check with Hermione, Hattie nodded.

"Alright, you can stay. For now."

"The Lady Darkness is most kind!," Fred exclaimed while George frantically shushed him.

"Shh, remember the school motto."

"Well that's not very nice," Hermione said, trying very hard not to laugh but failing miserably.

Soon, Fred, George and Hermione were laughing like loons and Hattie tried her hardest to remember the official school motto while trying to look affronted.

-o-

When Neville and Draco came back, introductions were made and the twins picked up where they left off.

"So there they were, our parents, comfortable on father's ministry salary and what not, both heir and spare dutifully brought into this world when who comes a-knocking but master stork?"

The listening children giggled and the other twin continued.

"Surely this can't be so bad, our dear, naive parents thought, what's one more little one with ickle Billykins going off to Hogwarts soon? But this stork that came a-knocking on April Fool's bore a heavy burden, indeed, for there was not just one baby in his basket, but too!"

"With how big their brains were, it's a miracle the stork didn't drop from the sky," the other cut in.

"Hear, hear!"

"Our happy little accidents, they call us."

By then, Hattie was laughing so hard her sides hurt and she was pretty sure there were tears in the corners of her eyes. The others were in similar states of general disarray, except for Draco of course who was merely giggling slightly with a lovely shade of pink dusting his pale cheeks.

They were just about done giggling when a knock sounded on their door. The curtains had been drawn back earlier when Neville and Draco had returned so they could see Professor Crouch standing outside with an amused expression.

Neville, who was closest to the door, opened it and bade the professor come inside.

"No need, Mr. Longbottom," Crouch replied evenly. "I'm just doing my rounds, or, well, line. Is everything alright with you, nobody giving my new ravens any grief?"

"Thank you, professor," Hermione beamed, "but we're doing fine. We're all very much looking forward to Hogwarts!"

"It won't be very much longer, Miss Granger, I assure you. Over half the journey is already done." When a voice that sounded like Professor Vector called for him, he nodded in her direction before turning back to the children. "We'll come by once more when it's time to change into your robes. Take care!"

"Well _he_ was nice," Neville commented. "But how does he know my name?"

"He's Deputy Headmaster," Hattie reminded him, "He probably knows all the first years' names and you really do look a lot like your parents."

"Huh, well I suppose so." Neville wore a happy little smile. Hattie knew he loved and admired his parents very much.

Shortly after Professor Crouch had left, the Honeyduke Express came rolling by. It was a plump witch wheeling a trolley that was transfigured to look like a miniature version of the Hogwarts Express but laden with candy.

Between Neville, Draco and Hattie they bought a little of everything and shared it among their friends.

"Look, I got Headmaster Riddle," Hermione grinned with half a chocolate frog still held in her hand. "_'Thomas Marvolo Riddle, Currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. A descendant of Salazar Slytherin and the only Parselmouth in the British Isles, he is most well-known for ridding Hogwarts of Slytherin's Bane contained within the Chamber of Secrets in 1943 and for his theoretical work in Alchemy, Spellcrafting and the Dark Arts. In his free time, he enjoys playing the piano_.' Wait, 1943? But that would mean he's really old? If he was at Hogwarts at that time he must be in his… sixties now!"

"Sixty as a wizard is not the same as sixty as a muggle," Draco explained, a tad too haughty for Hattie's taste. "Still… he looks too young even by wizard standards."

"Didn't the card say that he's an alchemist?," Neville asked Hermione who nodded slowly and then he lowered his voice. "Maybe he made a Philosopher's Stone?"

Hattie snorted. "Sorry, Neville, but that's not possible. The only one who's _ever _been able to make one is Nicholas Flamel. I don't think you can keep a discovery like this secret."

"You'll see," Neville pouted. "When he still looks young when you and me are old and wrinkly you'll think back to this very conversation!"

The children passed their time bickering, musing again about the Sorting - the twins were sure they were going to have to wrestle a troll which prompted a very long lecture by Hermione on the top ten facts why that was entirely out of the question - and snacking on sweets.

Before they knew it, Professor Crouch was back in the doorway to their compartment.

"Alright, children, this is it," he said with a smile and clapped his hands together. "Go get changed into your robes and just leave your trunks here. They will be brought into the castle immediately and distributed to your new dormitories after the Sorting. Wait a little before you leave the Express, the first years are taking another route to the castle than the upper years."

Fred and George said goodbye and left because they still had their robes in their original compartment.

"Do you need help getting your trunks down?," Professor Crouch asked.

The children shook their heads.

"Mother advised me to pack my robes into my satchel and I told my friends," Draco explained.

"You're young Mr. Malfoy, aren't you? Well, your mother just made my job a little easier," Professor Crouch said with a wink and bid them goodbye for now. No doubt there were lots of other firsties who needed help getting their trunks down.

Neville pulled the curtains closed and left the compartment with Draco to give the girls privacy to change. When they were done, they stood guard for the boys, of course, as were many other groups of girls and boys in that car of the train at the moment.

When they were all back in their compartment they checked themselves over again, made sure that Hermione's cat was back in her pet carrier and clung tight to their satchels. All of them were too nervous to talk much, so they mostly sat in silence until the train pulled into Hogsmeade station.

Heeding Professor Crouch's words the children waited for the biggest flow of people to subside before making their way out of the carriage. Outside, they made their way over to the professor who already had a small gaggle of children around him.

Hattie saw Hannah and Susan already standing with him and greeted them warmly. Professor Crouch used a spell to make sure the train was empty, counted the first years, nodded and then started leading the way.

Soon, the children found themselves herded down a grassy path, illuminated by a magical light Crouch had conjured over their heads. When they reached a great body of water, they stopped and Hattie was surprised to see a fleet of little boats waiting at the shore.

"Four pupils to a boat please, children," Crouch told them, commandeering one for himself. "There is enough space for everyone, so no rushing."

They were children. They were nervous and hungry and homesick, so they rushed.

Hattie ended up in a boat with Hermione, Draco and one of the twins. The boat next to them held Sue, Hannah, Neville and the second twin. Soon after, as promised, everyone had found a place somewhere and with a command by Crouch, the little fleet started moving as one.

The still lake water looked like black quartz with the way it reflected the cloudless night sky. Hattie was charmed. The sky looked so much clearer and more magical than the one over London. It reminded her of when she had gone camping with Remus and Sirius when she was younger.

Some of the children let out high-pitched screams and Hattie followed the pointed fingers to where a huge squid arm was lazily waving in the water.

"Oh, that must be the giant squid," Hermione said in awe. "I read about him in _Hogwarts: A History_, he's been living here for at least a quarter millenium!"

"Well it _is_ magical school," Draco reminded her. "What did they expect? Flubberworms and bowtruckles? Of course there's loads of great beasts here. Father says the Forbidden Forest houses Acromantulas, centaurs and even unicorns. If you take-"

He stopped speaking when the children in the front boats let out collective gasps when they rounded a corner of jagged rock. Hattie subconsciously grabbed hands with Hermione and they both let out gasps themselves when Hogwarts came into view.

Hattie didn't know what exactly she had expected but this– this was better than anything she could have possibly imagined. Hogwarts was a _behemoth_ lurking in the distance. The thousands of lights illuminating the stone walls and towers breathed life into the ancient structure and to Hattie the castle seemed to actually _breathe_ in tune with the gentle wind. It was simply breathtaking.

All too soon, their little fleet passed a curtain of ivy and the castle was lost from sight. They passed into the castle via a side gate that Crouch unlocked with a simple verbal command.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," he intoned with a smile as they filed into a large antechamber. "Now, I know you're all hungry and tired and nervous but don't worry– in no time at all, you'll be Sorted and the feast can begin. Follow me!"

With that, the group followed once more like little ducklings and found themselves in the Great Hall. Hattie was glad to be somewhere in the middle of the haphazard line and tried not to pay too much attention to the many curious faces staring at them from the house tables. Draco in front of her had his head held high, gaze trained stoically towards the raised dais at the back of the hall.

Finally they had reached the front and piled into a huddle at the foot of the steps leading up to the teachers' tables.

There were three of them, in all. One facing the students with 6 seats and two running like the house tables had what must have been a dozen seats each. They were all packed, just like the house tables were. Finally, Hattie found a familiar face– the headmaster was sat in the middle seat of the table facing the students and gave her a small incline of his head. A small smile fought its way on her face, battling bravely against her nervous stomach, and she gave the faintest nod back.

"Now that we're all gathered, the Sorting may begin," Crouch said in a loud, clear voice and put a small stool with an old hat on it down.

For a brief moment, Hattie feared they would have to pull a rabbit out of it, but then the hat's busted leather cracked open and a voice started singing about school spirit and house virtues and all she could do was stare. No test at all, they would just have to put on a hat! She felt terribly relieved and saw the other firsties around her calm down, too.

When the hat was done, Crouch unrolled a scroll and told them to come up once their names were called. Hannah Abbott was the first to be Sorted and she went to Hufflepuff after a little under a minute. Hattie was half expecting Susan to be called up next but suddenly Professor Crouch called "Black, Harriet." and the blood in her veins ran cold.

Her feet started walking of their own accord and Hattie had to will the rest of her body to follow lest she stumble and make a fool of herself. She managed to make it up the stairs and sat down on the stool with her back ramrod-straight.

"A Black," the hat spoke to her mind, delighted. "Haven't had one of those in a while."

"Not all that many of us left, are there," Hattie said without speaking, shrugging.

"Oh but you didn't start out as one, no, I can see it now. So many bloodlines coming together, your blood is _singing_ with magic. Slytherin would be good for you, in more ways than one, set you on the path to greatness. Make you powerful beyond your wildest imaginations!"

The hat was vibrating with excitement without moving an inch, Hattie could feel it, but she didn't like the feeling in her tummy when she thought of herself being great and powerful.

"Thank you, but I already have _the_ most Slytherin person alive teaching me. I just want to learn lots of magic and make friends and make everyone proud."

"Well, you're not quite there yet, are you?" If hats could disappointed, this one did. "But you will be, soon enough, so for now it better be _RAVENCLAW_!"

She could hear the last word shouted into the hall and there was a big round of applause when Professor Crouch lifted the hat from her head. He beamed at her and gestured to the table decked in blue and bronze. Still full of adrenaline, she practically rushed to the Ravenclaw table and was greeted with handshakes and warm words of welcome from those sitting closest to the end of the table that was traditionally free for the new firsties.

She only got the tail-end of Susan being Sorted into Hufflepuff and started clapping immediately. For the first time since she knew them, she didn't feel the slightest sting of jealousy coiling in her stomach when she watched Susan and Hannah share a hug in relief. Looking to Hermione, who was looking back at her with worry painting her face pale, Hattie felt like she had finally found that best friend she'd been looking for.

Welcoming Terry Boot, Mandy Brocklehurst and a couple others to her new house, Hattie anxiously waited for Hermione's name to be called. When Anthony Goldstein, a handsome boy with golden curls, joined them in Ravenclaw, she was sure it was going to be her friend's turn next. Instead, Gregory Goyle found himself in Slytherin and Hattie was worrying her lower lip until she could taste the coppery tang of blood in her mouth.

That was forgotten, though, when finally, _finally_, Hermione's name was called. The girl ran up the stairs and Crouch wasted no time putting the hat on her head. After a short deliberation, it called out "RAVENCLAW!" and Hattie was on her feet, meeting Hermione halfway in a hug. Giddy and giggly as only pre-teen girls can be, the two sat down at the end of the table and shared flushed smiles with each other.

They both wanted to chatter a mile a minute at each other but refrained from it for now out of respect for the other children yet to be Sorted.

Neville went to Gryffindor and Hattie and Hermione gave great whoops of joy when the boy made his way over to his new house mates with a pleased but flushed expression.

There were no surprises, really, at least for Hattie. Draco went to Slytherin and was joined by his good friend Theo Nott so that was him in good hands for the foreseeable future.

Once Blaise Zabini had joined them in Slytherin, the Sorting was over and Headmaster Riddle stood up from his seat.

"Welcome to our dear new First Years," he called out with a clear voice that didn't need magical amplification. "I shan't ever keep hungry children from eating, so get your fill and I will have some announcements for you after dinner.

Hattie spent the delicious feast talking to Hermione and getting to know her fellow first years a little between bites.

True to word, after the feasting was over, Riddle addressed them again.

"It's good to see you all back here safe and sound," he greeted them again. "As you can see, there are no new teachers, and none have left us since last year. I hope you have all read the school rules again and take them to heart. We don't tolerate bullying here, and while there are second chances, there are no third chances."

There was a murmur going through the crowd of students. An older Ravenclaw told them that 4 people had already been expelled in the years since Riddle had become headmaster. He assured them, though, that as far as he had heard, the things they had done would have accounted for actual crimes and that harmless jelly-legs jinxes and similar would only lead to detention and loss of house points.

Riddle continued after the murmurs had subsided, reminding them that the Forbidden Forest was forbidden unless accompanied by a teacher for class or research and that the caretaker wanted the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs in particular ro report when the new heating system down in the dungeons wasn't working properly.

Soon after, they were dismissed and the new first years were the first to leave with the new fifth year prefects. For the Ravenclaw girls, it was a nice young lady who had introduced herself as Penelope Clearwater during the feast. Her brown hair was plaited neatly and she looked like you would imagine an older sister ought to if you didn't have one of your own.

The six new Ravenclaw boys were a little ways in front of them, chattering away at each other and their Prefect Mortimer McKinnon who Hattie knew from passing.

"Since we'll be sharing a dorm for the next seven years– I hope none of you snore too loud," Lisa, a pretty little blond girl said with a mischievous smile.

"I hope the first thing we learn is a silencing charm." Padma was of Indian descent and Hattie immediately vowed to trade hair tips with the girl because that mane of dark locks was on _point_.

"No need to worry about that, girls," Penelope explained with a smile. "Back when your parents went to school, they might have shared a room with up to 6 or 7 people but Headmaster Riddle invested in the common rooms and dorms four years ago."

"Did they renovate them?," Hermione asked eagerly.

"Even better," Penelope smiled. "My first year here, I shared a room with 6 other girls and it was a _complete_ nightmare. In the summer after my first year, he had engineers come in and they used wizard space to expand the space inside the dorms. Now, you only have to share a room with one other student and you have a small, private ensuite bathroom."

The girls all looked delighted.

"Now, while you're listening, put those raven brains of yours to good use and try to remember what you can of the path we take at the same time. We'll teach you all the relevant paths, of course, but starting early is always sensible."

Hattie was starting to feel how long their day had been as they were walking. The other girls were also dragging their feet, no doubt just as relieved as her that the day was finally coming to a close. She was definitely going to write that letter to Sirius tomorrow because today, she would only produce chickenscratch and probably bowl over her ink pot or something.

"Here we are," Penelope finally said after they had climbed a spiral staircase and stopped in front of a big door with bronze knocker shaped like an eagle. "You knock, the eagle asks a riddle, you answer correctly because you're a good little raven, and in you fly to our nest."

She proceeded to knock and the eagle came to life. "I'm tall when I'm young and I'm short when I'm old. What am I?"

"Finally," Padma exclaimed, face alight with glee, "I _finally _know why father had me solve riddles every now and again before bedtime for the last couple years! You're a _candle_!"

The eagle didn't reply, but the door swung inwards.

"Very good," Penelope praised. "2 points for Ravenclaw for being prepared."

There was much congratulating for the first house points earned and the tired girls only spared little time admiring the beautiful common room. Following Penelope up another small staircase, they found themselves in a wide hallway that ended with a big window. You could faintly see the stars twinkling in the darkness outside. On both sides of the hallway were two doors each.

"The dorms for first to fourth year girls are behind these doors," she explained. "Yours is the first door on the left. Us fifth years and above are one flight up and, well, I think you can handle it from here. You are expected to be down in the Common Room at 7:30 am and will be officially welcomed by our two Heads of Ravenclaw House, Professor Crouch and Flitwick. I'm glad to have you girls here, you'll make a fine addition to our house. Get some sleep, girls."

The girls thanked her and went to their door. Hattie dared to be the one to open it and found a corridor much like the one they had come from behind it, except the doors were only on their left and there were only three of them. Lined up at the wall opposite were their trunks.

"I think you and Hermione will share a room?," Padma asked with a smile and Hattie and Hermione nodded with matching grins. "Well, us other four don't really know each other."

"We could just choose from the gut and maybe swap if it doesn't work out?" It was the first time the quiet Su Li had said something since they'd left the Great Hall.

"That sounds extremely reasonable," Lisa agreed. "I liked talking to you at the feast, Su, would you like to room with me at least for this night?"

Su nodded with a small smile. "Will you be alright?," she asked Padma and Mandy.

Mandy nodded enthusiastically. "I'm sure, yeah. Padma seems very nice. You all seem very nice, actually. I was a little afraid of being in close quarters with so many other girls for such a long time but now I think we'll all be fine."

Gushing about each other for a short time, the girls ultimately each hauled their trunks into their respective new rooms and shut the doors. Hermione let Crookshanks out of his pet carrier and the cat made a show of stretching himself and exploring for about two minutes before curling up on one of the two massive four poster beds and settling down for the night.

"I guess this bed's yours, then," Hattie grinned, looking about herself. "A bed, a wardrobe and a little writing desk each– this is quite more than I've expected, to be honest."

She walked up to her own four poster bed on the left side of the room and put her satchel down. The two desks were on the curved far wall that had a window, their dressers were between bed and desk, and there was a door on the right side of the room between Hermione's bed and the wall.

With Hermione busy fawning over Crookshanks, Hattie got her pyjamas and toiletries out of her trunk and went into the small ensuite bathroom. It had a shower, a sink, a mirror and a magical window– all sparkling and a lot more private than Hattie had hoped for.

Quickly washing and relieving herself, she returned to find Hermione sitting on her bed with Crookshanks on her lap.

"Finally," Hermione said with an awed and slightly disbelieving expression. "Hogwarts."

Hattie smiled tiredly and mumbled something in response. Her sheets were soft and smelled fresh when she crawled under them and the mattress was just the right amount of firm. She felt herself drift off and was gone before Hermione had gotten up to go change.

Her last thought before sleep claimed her was that she would make sure that she was going to have seven unforgettable years ahead of her.

She didn't know it yet, but one way or another– her wish would be granted.

-o-

AN: Headcanon time! The reason why the Weasleys have so many children is not because Molly reaaaally wanted a daughter. They stopped because they thought they'd lost their son mojo. You see, they wanted to breed the next generation of Light wizards to fight in the war– and they did!

Here, there was no war, Molly's brothers are alive and so they stopped after two. Or, well, at least they tried :D


End file.
